


Those Were the Days of Our Lives

by TheCatweazle



Series: "Hammer" [2]
Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-09-28 18:40:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 59,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20430623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCatweazle/pseuds/TheCatweazle
Summary: A collection of short stories to fill the gap between “How to Treat a Festering Wound” and “Now Your Nightmare Comes to Life.” All the odd bits and pieces which belong to neither story, but add a bit of extra flavor.





	1. The Singing Cops (aka Side by Side)

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

**Welcome to the second part of the “Hammer” series!**

**This basically is a collection of short stories, one-offs, little doodles and what have you to accompany the series, which consists of “How to Treat a Festering Wound,” “Now Your Nightmare Comes to Life, and “Hammer to Fall.” These are all the little bits and pieces which don’t necessarily fit into the main storyline, but fill the huge time gap between “Wound,” which takes place in 2016, and “Nightmare,” which starts in 2020. Which is why it’s not necessary to read these little snippets to understand the other stories. But they can add a bit of extra flavor to the other stories. There will be explanatory chapters which shed a different light on events I mentioned in the other stories. There will be somewhat odd one-offs which I just felt like writing despite the fact that they don’t really fit in with everything else I wrote. There will be funny moments, sad moments, moments of violence, outrageous moments, dramatic moments, and fluffy moments! You can expect a little bit of everything.**

**But there’s one thing you don’t need to expect, and that’s temporal continuity!**

**It is quite possible, and maybe even likely, that one chapter takes place shortly after the movie, the next one two years later, and the one following that somewhere in between. This will always be explained, so you know what we’re dealing with. Every chapter will take place between 2016 and 2020. But apart from that little limitation, all bets are off.**

**Yet again, I’ve assigned a “Teen and up” rating, and some of the things along the road may by kind of unpleasant for the more squeamish among you, so I’ve also assigned a “Graphic depiction of violence” flag, just for good measure.**

**This story’s name was taken from a song written and performed by the band Queen named “These Are the Days of Our Lives,” published on the album “Innuendo” in 1991 by Parlophone.**

**So, after having laid down the fundamentals, let’s get crackin’, shall we?**

**I want to start this collection by using a short story I wrote about three years ago, as part of a collection of short stories called “Where There is Song.” It was supposed to contain separate chapters revolving around songs I like. Unfortunately, it never went anywhere, and after just four chapters, it became somewhat abandoned. (Don’t bother looking for it over on fanfiction.net - I’ve deleted it in the meantime.) With this new story collection, however, I’m once again able to share three of those chapters with you. (I won’t share the fourth one though - it deals with a situation where Judy died while on duty, and since my version of Judy survives, this chapter in turn became as dead as a dodo. Don’t bother asking - I’ll never publish that one, ever! Mostly because I never even liked it all that much ...)**

**This particular chapter here doesn’t necessarily belong to the overall storyline I’ve created here. I just added it here to give you guys out there a little tidbit.**

**Does anyone of you remember the movie “Hudson Hawk” with Bruce Willis, Danny Aiello, and Andie MacDowell, published by TriStar Pictures in 1991? If not, it’s not a knowledge gap - the movie is so atrociously bad, it received three Razzie awards and three additional nominations, and justifiably so. Ebert and Siskel gave the movie “two thumbs down.” I guess that’s all you need to know.**

**However, it has its moments …**

**If you know the movie, you’ll know the setup immediately. If not, well, there’s a video on YouTube. Just look for “Hudson Hawk Side by Side.” Yeah, it’s that silly!**

**In this chapter, I make extensive use of the song “Side by Side.” (Lyrics by Gus Kahn, music by Harry M. Woods. Written in 1927 and recorded by a host of musicians over the course of the years. If you want to listen to it, I suggest the version by Ray Charles and Betty Carter, released on the album “Ray Charles and Betty Carter” by ABC Records in 1961 - it’s the one version I like best. The one on the movie’s soundtrack was performed by Paul Anka, just so you know.)**

**And the chapter’s motto song is a bow towards my faithful reader thehellion117, over on the Zootopia Discord channel, who’s just as big a fan of Sabaton as I am!**

**Disclaimer:**

**This story and everything therein was created by me, Jens “TheCatweazle” Ostendorf, Brake, Germany, from 2016 onwards. With one huge exception, the work is mine, and mine alone. There will be quotes from movies or books, one-liners, song lyrics and the likes cropping up here and there, but those will always be indicated, and I will always give credit where credit is due. **

**The exception is, of course, this:**

**The movie “Zootopia” and everything depicted therein belongs to Walt Disney Pictures/Walt Disney Animation Studios, copyrighted in 2016. I own nothing of it. I’m just playing in the backyard of that company and beg forgiveness for any damage I may have caused their toys!**

* * *

Chapter One

** The Singing Cops (aka Side by Side) **

_There’s no time to waste, the final battle’s begun._

Sabaton: “The Last Battle” (Lyrics by Joakim Brodén, Music by Joakim Brodén and Pär Sundström, from the album “The Last Stand,” Nuclear Blast, 2016)

* * *

**Premise**: Not necessarily canon, almost three years after the Night Howler case

* * *

**Outside of Lemming Brothers Bank Subsidiary, Sahara Square, Zootopia**

The distress call had come in towards the end of their shift. A group of weasels, seven of them, had entered a bank and taken at least ten mammals hostage, maybe even more. Judy and Nick had been in the vicinity and had therefore taken the assignment.

The bank itself, one of several Lemming Brothers subsidiaries, was a huge, yet rather nondescript building with a sliding door. After having left their patrol car in front of the building, they had moved towards the building to take positions next to the entrance.

While Judy was checking her tranq gun, making sure to pick the level of tranquilizing agent suitable for weasel-sized opponents, Nick unhooked his walkie-talkie from his utility belt. “Dispatch, Wilde here. We’re in position near the entrance. Requesting backup. Over.”

The tinny voice of Benjamin Clawhauser erupted from the tiny speaker. “_Uh, stand by … backup is en route, ETA twenty-one minutes. Over_.”

Wilde looked at his walkie-talkie in disdain. “Say again, Ben?”

Wilde could almost hear Clawhauser shrug. “_We’re stretched really thin tonight, Nick. Sorry! There’s nobody in the immediate vicinity_.”

Judy, who was kneeling on the floor on the other side of the sliding door, mouthed: “What is it?”

“No backup,” Nick mouthed back. Into the walkie-talkie he said: “So you expect us to hang around here all night, huh?”

Clawhauser gave a sigh. “_Nick, I know how it is, and I’m sorry. Just wait for them to arrive_.”

Nick took a deep breath, looking at Judy again. The bunny gave a smile, put her left paw behind her back and pulled her backup tranq gun from her waistband, checking its clip immediately. Nick returned the smile. “Negative, Dispatch. We’re going in.”

Suddenly a new voice joined the conversation. “_Stand down, Sergeant Wilde! That’s an order!_” The voice sounded like thunder and lightning.

Nick made a face. If there was one thing he had learned the hard way, it was that contradicting Chief Bogo was asking for more trouble than he could ever want. He did it anyway. “With all due respect, Chief, we have a hostage situation here, and we have a band of slightly agitated weasels. I happen to know them, sir. They are the kind of mammal to shoot first, usually before someone could even think of a question. Do you want civilian casualties on your conscience, sir? I don’t.”

Bogo heaved a sigh so huge, the walkie-talkie in Nick’s paw started to vibrate. “_I don’t like it either, Wilde, but you know the procedure. Stand down and wait for backup. SWAT team’s alerted. Should be arriving in little more than twenty minutes_.”

Nick looked at Judy again. She nodded grimly. “Chief, in twenty minutes, several of the hostages will be dead. Not on our watch! We’re going in! Wilde out.” He deactivated the walkie-talkie before they were able to hear Bogo’s rant. “You heard him?”

Judy grinned. “One, I’m a bunny, so my sense of hearing trumps yours by light years, two, even a lamppost would have heard him.”

“You’re right.” Nick looked at the entrance while pulling his tranq gun from his holster. On their way to the crime scene - Judy had been driving, as usual -, he had already made sure to pick the correct tranq darts to use against weasels. “Which probably means our weasel boys heard him, too.”

“Probably.”

“So they know we’re here.”

Judy gave another grin, pointing at their cruiser. “I guess our small joke-mobile _might_ have alerted them already.”

Nick grinned. Their cruiser was everything, but it was _not_ small! Judy was slowly, but surely, getting the hang of cynical jokes. Which wasn’t all that surprising, given the fact that she was learning from the best - _him_! While readying his own backup tranq gun, he said casually: “So, one minute to secure the hostages, about one and a half to take out the trash.”

Judy paused for a moment, thinking. “Two 20. Side by Side.”

Nick nodded. “Da-dumm-dumm …”

Judy stood up, turning towards the entrance, both tranq guns raised, ready to fire. The sliding door opened immediately, and she stepped into the darkened hall. “_Oh, we ain’t got a barrel of money_,” she sang.

Nick had gotten up, too, guns ready, sweeping the hall with his sharp gaze. “_Maybe we’re ragged and funny_,” he continued.

While he was still singing, he saw the first weasel, standing upright behind a counter, turning towards them. He raised one of his tranq guns immediately, but Judy beat him to it. A hiss, a thud, a gasp, no more movement. One villain down, six more to go.

Nick looked at Judy, who returned the gaze. Both sang at the same time: “_But we travel along, singin’ our song, side by side_.”

They heard a shout: “Damn, it’s the Singing Cops!”

The shout was a mistake, because it did alert Nick of the next villain’s location. Another precision shot, another gasp, two villains out of order. “_Don’t know what’s comin’ tomorrow_.”

Judy, meanwhile, was approaching a gap between two counters. Her sensitive ears had told her all along that one of the weasels was lurking behind the corner. She made one of her trademark huge leaps, turning around in mid-air, shooting another dart into another mammal. She completed her pirouette to land on her hind paws again, sliding into cover behind another counter. “_Maybe it’s trouble and sorrow_.”

Nick jumped over into her cover, joining her, both in song as in position. “_But we travel the road, sharin’ our load, side by side_.”

He looked ahead, seeing two weasels leave a room to the right, entering the main hall of the bank, nine millimeters at the ready. He sprinted to the left at once, while Judy sprinted to the right. “_Through all kinds of weather_,” he continued their song, aligning his sights with the first villain.

“_What if the sky should fall?_” Judy was jumping on top of another counter, aligning her sights with the other villain Two simultaneous shots, two more unconscious criminals.

Both looked at each other again from different sides of the hall. “_Just as long as we’re together, it doesn’t matter at all!_”

“Dammit!” one of the remaining goons shouted. “Shoot ‘em! Shoot ‘em!”

_They never learn_, Nick thought. Another precise hit. Six criminals in the bag. Just one left

The remaining weasel had obviously decided that talking wasn’t going to get him anywhere, so he let his gun do the talking. Bullets hit counters and panes of glass, shattering, splintering, ricocheting off the walls. A potentially highly dangerous situation, but one both Judy and Nick were quite used to. Fortunately, it seemed the weasels had led their hostages into one of the offices to the side, so they were in no immediate danger. But if they didn’t do something about their last enemy soon, the same would no longer be in effect for the two of them.

Both sprang into action immediately. Nick dove across a gap behind another counter, measuring distances and vectors in his mind. The remaining criminal was obviously hidden behind the leftmost counter, impossible to tackle from their current positions. Every attempt to approach him would be greeted by more pieces of hot lead.

But there were always ways around problems like these.

He looked at Judy, who had taken cover to the other side of the last counter. Next, he looked at the ceiling, at a long fluorescent tube attached to it, hanging above the counter, over the head of the last weasel. It was attached with two thin chains which would probably withstand their tranquilizer darts.

But not a solid nine millimeter slug.

Nick looked around. The first weasel Judy had shot was lying next to him, breathing evenly, completely out cold. He wouldn’t need his pistol at this moment. He took it out of the weasel’s paw, taking aim. “_When they’ve all had their quarrels and parted_.” He fired. Due to firing a gun he was unused to, his first shot went wide. The second bullet, however, hit the right chain, breaking it. The lamp detached from the ceiling immediately, swinging down low. Nick heard a curse, and a brown shape emerged from behind the counter …

Only to go down immediately again, courtesy of another tranquilizer round fired by Judy. “_We’ll be the same as we started_.”

Both got up, grinning. “_Just travelin’ along, singin’ our song, side by side!_”

* * *

**ZPD Precinct One Headquarters, Lobby, Receptionist’s Counter, City Center, Zootopia**

“Singing Cops Take Out Bank Robbers.” Clawhauser gave a guffaw, pointing at the newspaper. “You two are just adorable.”

Nick shrugged, inwardly pleased at how well things had turned out. The twelve hostages had left the bank completely unscathed, while the seven weasels were now sitting in uncomfortable cells, awaiting prosecution.

Judy shrugged as well. “We did what we had to do. How did Bogo take it?”

Clawhauser grinned. “With his usual style and panache. Although I distinctly remember that he wanted to turn your tail into a scarf, Nick.”

“Over my dead body, Spots!”

“Thought so. Oh, there was a letter for you.”

“For me?” Nick asked.

“For the two of you.” He held a letter in his hand for Nick to grab.

Nick took it, unfolding it, and started reading. His eyes widened. “Er, what?”

Judy, puzzled by her partner’s behavior, snatched the letter out of his paw.

“Dear Ms. Hopps and Mr. Wilde!

“We are happy to tell you that you have been accepted as candidates for the next series of ‘Zootopia’s Got Talent.’ Your application has been evaluated by Simon Cow-Well, and …” she paused, looking up.

“CLAWHAUSER!!!”

* * *

**So, just wait for the next series of “Zootopia’s Got Talent,” featuring the singing sensations, Judith Hopps and Nicholas Wilde! (I’m quite certain they would rock the house!)**

**Thanks for reading this one, and stay tuned for the next, and invariably way more serious chapter(s)! Every comment is highly appreciated. (And will be answered - I can guaran-damn-tee you that!)**

**Take care!**

**Jens “TheCatweazle” Ostendorf**


	2. The Gauntlet I - A Less Than Triumphant Return

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

**Things are progressing quite smoothly at the moment, mainly because there isn’t all that much with these little snippets that needs doing. Which is bound to change soon, when I start introducing completely new chapters, Those will probably take me longer to complete, but at one point, getting “Nightmare” and “Hammer” published will simply take precedence.**

**But not at the moment - I still need to deal with the chapters that were once part of “Wound.”**

**Thanks to all of you for reading this story and “Wound” so far! In particular, I want to thank FirnenOne and ubernoner for sending comments on this story here, and to GhostWolf88, niraD, The Wildehopps Protection Agency (WHPA), giftheck, Not_Jonas_Cliver, and RT_Pilon for commenting on “Wound!”**

**Now, on to the task at hand:**

**This chapter here actually is the first of five which belong together, covering a few days in the life of a certain bunny we all know and love. And the chapters actually go hand-in-hand with the motto song.**

**Which actually has a story behind it. It’s the title song for the first season of an anime-style web series named “RWBY” (pronounced “ruby”), created by the late Monyreak “Monty” Oum and produced by Rooster Teeth Productions, to be found on YouTube, among other places. I was alerted to its existence by one of my faithful readers, Galaxyexplorer74. Now, I must admit that anime and manga aren’t exactly my cup of tea, but watching the series has been surprisingly entertaining. And I really liked the title song. And the lyrics really fit this chapter like a glove. As a matter of fact, the lyrics fit this particular part of my story so well, all interconnected upcoming chapters will begin with a quote taken from this very song, although not in the correct order. Thanks, Galaxyexplorer74, wherever you are (haven’t heard from him in ages), for this little gem!**

**The story angle itself has a little background story behind it as well, which I need to explain, because the first time I wrote it, I decided to give explanation only after the story angle was completed, and in between, I received some quite acerbic comments accusing me of condoning harassment. Which I don’t, of course, very much to the contrary!**

**Now, to prevent this from happening again, a few explanations are in order.**

**Why does this angle exist? Simply because of a part of the story we are told by the movie itself. Something that really made me scratch my head, not quite believing what I had just seen.**

**In the beginning, when Judy joins Precinct One, she’s harassed. And that even is an understatement. Bogo treats her so badly, I would have loved to be able to punch him in the face - and I’m not overly prone to violence! And everybody seems to think his behavior is perfectly okay! Judy has to overcome stupendous odds to gain the respect of her peers and superiors. She has to risk life and limb, literally, to finally be considered a worthy addition to Precinct One’s roster.**

**I don’t know about you, but to me, that sounds incredibly stupid. Why does Bogo feel the need to put so much pressure on Judy? It’s pointless! She was valedictorian of her class, so she would have deserved to be treated with at least as much respect as the other rookies joining the ZPD along with her- and there are several, according to Bogo. Let’s face it, he should have treated her with _more_ respect than them. But the exact opposite happens. She’s the only mammal to be assigned parking duty. No other rookie suffers the same fate.**

**And when she finally makes the daring move and takes on the case of the missing Emmitt Otterton, what does Bogo do? Does he tell her to stand down, because it could be too dangerous for her, especially since she’s but a rookie? Does he assign her to team up with a seasoned veteran, telling her to watch and learn?**

**No, he threatens to fire her!**

**A true “_Wait, what?_” moment, if you ask me.**

**And when he can’t, because of Bellwether’s timely appearance, he even suggests a deal which Judy was sure to lose. He doesn’t provide her with any assistance, any help whatsoever.**

**What an asshole!!!**

**He’s basically weakening his own duty roster by putting one of his subordinates, a very promising rookie, in a no-win situation. Maybe she simply fails. Maybe this turns ugly, and the tiny bunny is crushed, literally. In any case, Precinct One would have lost an officer even before her potentially very successful career could have taken off.**

**Does this sound smart to you?**

**Let’s face it, regardless of his qualities as a Chief, which probably are prodigious, Bogo’s a world-class idiot! He’s basically ignoring his own duty. Every superior has to care deeply for the health and well-being of his subordinates. (That’s one of the reasons why beat cops usually go in pairs - they have to watch each other’s backs.) If he doesn’t, he’s not so much a superior as an abject failure of one.**

**It took the help of the most unlikely of allies, a fox, for Judy to emerge mostly unscathed. She could easily have died, and it would have been on Bogo’s conscience.**

**Great way to do your duty, sir!**

**Now, when Nick joins Precinct One near the end of the movie, does he experience any of this? Is he subjected to harassment? Is he forced to do menial tasks unbefitting a police officer? Is he put in a no-win situation he can only get out of by putting his life on the line?**

**No, he’s not. To the contrary. His every wish is fulfilled: He gets to team up with his favorite bunny, he isn’t disrespected at all, and he’s even allowed to crack a joke without Bogo going berserk because of it. And the job he’s ordered to do is a far cry from doing parking duty.**

**And all this happens despite the fact that he’s a fox, that he belongs to a species held in little esteem in general.**

**What in the blue blazes …?**

**What has happened to Bogo? Why does he treat Nick with the respect that was so suspiciously lacking when Judy joined the ZPD?**

**Maybe because of something like the stuff you’re about to read in the next five chapters.**

* * *

Chapter Two

** The Gauntlet I - A Less Than Triumphant Return **

_This world’s unforgiving. Even brilliant lights will cease to burn._

Jeff Williams feat. Casey Lee Williams: “This Will Be The Day” (Written by Jeff Williams, from the album “RWBY Volume 1 Soundtrack,” Rooster Teeth Productions, 2013)

* * *

**Premise**: Judy’s first day back on duty after her injury lay-off.

* * *

**McDonkey’s Fast Food Restaurant, Sahara Square, Zootopia**

The caribou working behind the counter looked down at her latest customer with a frown. It wasn’t every day that a bunny walked into a fast food restaurant. Most of her species were notoriously straight-laced when it came to food, with almost all of them despising the mere idea of eating junk food.

Yet she was a customer.

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” the caribou said. “What may I do for you?”

“Erm, good afternoon!” The bunny took a deep breath. “I’d like to have one Huge Fish Mac, a Cricket McNuggets Meal with curry sauce and fries, and one Cowca-Cowla, but no ice, please.”

It was as if life within the restaurant itself was suspended for a few seconds as every mammal in there turned their heads towards the bunny.

“What?” the doe said quickly, in a blatantly obvious attempt to hide her embarrassment. “My superior’s a lion, and he doesn’t like to wait. So may I ask you to, please, hurry up?”

* * *

**ZPD Precinct One Headquarters, Lobby, City Center, Zootopia - Five Hours Earlier**

Two tall mammals were standing up on the mezzanine surrounding the main lobby of ZPD’s Precinct One. Both were watching in silence as Clawhauser, after several weeks of enforced reassignment and two weeks of well-deserved vacation, was finally reclaiming his old hunting grounds.

When Higgins and Rhinowitz approached the cheetah to present him with two enormous boxes full of donuts, one of the mammals smiled. “Your idea?”

“No. Pennington came up with this, and Rhinowitz walked over to buy them,” the other mammal said. “Clawhauser could certainly use a little cheering up after what I had to do to him.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“It still felt awful. Still does, especially since I know now that none of it had been necessary.”

Both mammal’s gazes went over to the huge revolving doors, where a rather small mammal wearing the blue uniform of a police officer had just appeared. She stopped for a moment, looking at the scene which played out in front of her, then she walked straight towards the receptionist’s counter. Clawhauser gave her a happy wave while munching on one of the donuts.

“Our new celebrity,” the first mammal said.

“What do you think of her?” the other one asked.

“Young. Energetic. Definitely with the makings of a true police officer, although I think it’s too early to tell whether she’ll one day become a good one.” A pause. “Any particular reason why you’re asking?”

“Do you like her?”

“I actually never asked myself the question.”

“Do you?”

“I don’t even know her! How could I possibly be answering this question?”

“Do you hold a grudge against her?”

“Why? Just because Bellwether used her as an excuse to wreak havoc upon this city? Hopps had no idea what she was talking about. Bellwether had. That one’s on the sheep, and her alone.” A pause. “You want me to team up with her.”

“I do. McHorn asked for a few days off. With our staff level having been stretched so thin, he had to work on almost every day for more than two straight months. He came to me and merely said he needed a few days to recharge his batteries. Which in turn means you’re out of a partner. Would you be okay with her taking his place? Only temporarily, of course, until McHorn is back.”

“Have I ever questioned your assignments? You know perfectly well that I’ll do whatever you tell me to do. But why are you telling me this now? Why didn’t you wait until roll call?”

“Because I may have a big favor to ask of you.”

“Which is?”

“You really hold no grudge against her?”

“Do I need to put it in writing? I’m perfectly okay with her, and I certainly don’t mind her presence here. And I don’t mind being put in a team with her either. I have no problems with Hopps at all. Nothing of it was her fault.”

“Good. I needed to make sure. Now, what if she’s under the impression that you _do_ hold a grudge against her?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“When I received my Medal of Honor, I had more than ten years of service under my belt. My Chief back then, Michael Ironhide, made sure it wouldn’t go to my head by putting me on parking duty for two weeks, and I already was a Lieutenant back then. Was a very wholesome experience, let me tell you. All she has in terms of experience is _three months_, most of which were spent in self-imposed exile. It’s enough to make any mammal’s head go topsy-turvy. Before she joined us, one of her instructors explicitly called her overambitious, ruthless, selfish. One of those mammals who thinks that, just because she’s found one thing she’s any good at, that she’s better at it than anybody else. On her very first day, she rubbed the fact that she was valedictorian of her class under my nose. Sounds dangerously close to hubris to me.”

“She didn’t sound too overbearing to me during her second press conference.”

“I agree, but are you willing to bet your life on it? What if she really thinks she’s better than anyone else, now that she’s been given the Medal of Honor?”

“If you doubt her, maybe you shouldn’t have given it to her in the first place.”

“No, I think she deserves it. But you have to admit the situation isn’t necessarily ideal. What if there’s a certain amount of hubris still dormant within her? What if it comes to the surface at the worst possible moment? What if your life depends on her actions, and what if she fails to react properly, just because she thinks she’s better than she actually is?”

“That would certainly be … bad.”

“And what if her inherent prejudice against predators is still there? She hails from a community which consists almost exclusively of rabbits. The number of predators she had seen before coming to Zootopia can’t have been all that big. She openly admitted to having been prejudiced towards predators. What if she isn’t cured? What if her fear towards guys like you comes to the surface when your life depends on what she does?”

“That might be even worse.”

“See, and that’s why I need you to team up with her.”

“Why me?”

“Because you are one of the mammals who lost his job because of what she did during the first press conference. Because you are, by default, one of the most scary predators on the force. Because you can be as intimidating as the devil himself.”

“You want me to scare her?”

“No, I merely want you to show her what she’s in for, preferably in the worst possible way. She needs to work together with predators on a constant basis. You can’t work at Precinct One without the need to team up with predators every now and then. She needs to be okay with this, otherwise she may turn out to be dead weight when we need her to be at the top of her game. You also need to show her her place. If she isn’t aware of who’s in charge at all times, she may turn out to be useless to us.”

“You know I was brought up in the firm belief that displaying my predatory assets in the presence of prey is as bad as it can be. I try my hardest to never be intimidating towards my peers and colleagues.”

“I know, and I approve. But I also know you can be quite different when need arises.” A pause. “So, will you do it?”

“I told you before that I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”

“This is different. It’s not something I can order you to do, because it’s awfully close to harassment. This is why I’m merely asking you if you’re willing to do it.”

“I am. Although, just for the record, I will probably not like it very much.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. But you realize that it needs to be done.”

“I agree with you, and I’ll do it.”

“Thank you.”

* * *

**ZPD Precinct One Headquarters, Briefing Room A aka “Bullpen,” City Center, Zootopia**

“Delgato, Sahara Square patrol. Since McHorn asked for a few days of R&R, Hopps will be your partner this week.”

Frederick Delgato simply nodded and got up from his chair. Walking towards the empty space leading towards the exit, he came across Hopps who was standing in front of him, a wide smile on her face and her paw raised, obviously expecting a paw bump. “Hi! Ready to make the world a better place?”

Delgato stared down at her without moving, and Hopps’s smile visibly faltered. “Where I come from, Hopps” he finally said, “we greet each other with ‘Good Morning.’”

Hopps dropped her paw immediately. “Of course. Good morning, Delgato.”

“I am your superior officer. You will address me with ‘Sergeant’ or ‘sir,’ Hopps.”

Any inkling of happiness fled Hopps in an instant. Instead, she straightened herself and gave him a very crisp salute. “Of course, sir! Good morning, Sergeant!”

“Better. Now, let’s get to it. Crime doesn’t sleep.”

He had counted on Hopps to make a comment on this, but she merely nodded and stepped aside, allowing him to walk past her. Ignoring the incredulous stares from their workmates, he left the bullpen with Hopps in tow, who had to hasten to match his long strides.

* * *

**ZPD Precinct One Headquarters, Parking Lot, Patrol Vehicle A113, City Center, Zootopia**

“Dispatch, this is One-13, ready to assume patrol.” Delgato fastened his seat belt.

Immediately, Clawhauser’s voice filled the driver’s cabin. “_Acknowledged, One-13! Oh, and before I forget, I heard you’ve been promoted. Congrats, Freddie!_”

“Thanks, Ben. And congrats for being back where you belong. 13 over.”

“_Thank you! Dispatch out_.” The radio fell silent again.

Delgato looked down at Hoops, who was visibly struggling with her seat belt. Their police cruiser had been built following a very specific set of rules. It was roomy enough to allow for four rhino-sized passengers to fit in comfortably, and to be able to use its controls, a certain height and size also was a necessity. Consequently, everything in it was way too large for a rabbit. Nobody had ever thought of ordering cars befitting small mammals so far, not with only one small mammal being on the roster. Cruisers which were truly adapted to be used by small mammals were non-existent. Even the three-wheeled patrol car which Hopps had used while on parking duty hadn’t been a custom-built car designed with small police officers in mind. Procurement and Logistics had simply bought a cheap electric car and refitted it with lights, a siren, and all the doodads and do-hickeys a bunny cop might need in the line of duty.

For occasions like these, several full sets of booster seats of various shapes and sizes could be found in the lockers situated on the parking lot, but Delgato had opted to not tell Hopps. Not before knowing whether she was willing to walk the full mile alongside a huge predator.

Finally, after almost one minute of struggle, Hopps had managed to fasten the seat belt. Now she was just sitting there, almost vanishing in a seat fifteen sizes to large for her, with a seat belt slung over her chest so high, it looked like it was about to strangle her. A certain lack of happiness was etched on her face. Ever since Delgato had given her an earful during roll call, she hadn’t uttered one single word. Every ounce of excitement or even contentment she had displayed during her arrival at Precinct One had completely evaporated. There no longer was a spring in her step. A distinct scowl showed on her features. She looked tense, on the edge.

Probably because she was in close quarters with a predator large enough to swallow her whole.

“Are you ready, Hopps?”

“I am always ready, sir,” came the terse reply.

“Good.” Delgato started the cruiser’s engines, and with a low rumble, the vehicle started to roll.

There were times when he truly hated his job.

* * *

**Patrol Vehicle A113, Sahara Square, Zootopia**

Several hours later, after a largely uneventful patrol, Delgato felt torn.

It felt like he was doing the patrol all by his lonesome.

Sure, Hopps had been with him all the time, and she had done everything a good police officer had to do, and perfectly at that. She had guarded him when they had approached a speeding vehicle. She had pointed out a possible 10-31 to him (merely a small-time pickpocket whom they had managed to catch quickly). She had been silent, watchful, observant.

Yet the number of words Hopps had said to him, apart from pointing out crimes-in-progress or anything work-related, could have been counted on one paw.

He truly missed the snide remarks of his old friend and partner, Brian McHorn. He missed the silly jokes and harmless banter.

Instead, he was stuck with a morose bunny.

And he couldn’t help thinking that it was all his fault.

_It needs to be done, Freddie_, he reminded himself.

He found an empty parking space and stopped the cruiser. “I don’t know about you, Hopps, but I could use a break. Hungry?”

“Not really, sir,” Hopps replied immediately.

“Well, I am.” He pressed the button on the control panel. “Dispatch, this is One-13. We’re 10-7 for half an hour. Over.”

“_10-4, 13_,” Clawhauser said after two seconds. “_Enjoy your meal! Over_.”

“I will! 13 out.” Delgato lunged for his wallet while looking through their cruiser’s windscreen. There was a rather infamous fast food restaurant nearby, one frequented by a lot of predator officers. Delgato wasn’t all that fond of fast food actually, since he considered the stuff to be too expensive and never leaving him truly sated or satisfied, but in default of a soul, the devil puts up with a fly. He pointed towards the place. “Why don’t you go and fetch something? Here’s a double sawbuck. I’d like a Cricket McNuggets Meal with fries, curry sauce with that, a Cowca-Cowla without ice, oh, and one Huge Fish Mac.”

Hopps took the proffered bill. “At once, sir!” Without another word, she left the cruiser. This time, she managed to slam the door while jumping down at the same time, something she had failed to do the first three times she had left the cruiser.

Delgato watched after her as she walked towards the restaurant with fast, purposeful strides.

_I have just sent her into the literal lion’s den!_

It was a well-known fact that no self-respecting bunny would ever enter a fast food restaurant of their own volition. Their distaste for non-organic food was proverbial. On top of that, you would probably be hard-pressed to find any prey mammal in a place like that at any given time.

And he had told her to order stuff no self-respecting bunny would ever touch with a ten-foot pole. _Could_ ever touch with a ten-foot pole. Bunnies are obligate vegetarians, everybody knew that.

He could just imagine the stares the young doe would receive.

A few minutes later, Hopps reappeared, struggling to carry a paper bag almost as big as she was, which seriously hampered her field of vision. When crossing the bikeway, she almost collided with a weasel on a bicycle, apologizing profusely to the mustelid. Finally, after almost one minute, she had finally made it to the cruiser, but there was no way for her to be able to open the door and hold onto the bag at the same time.

With a sigh, Delgato left the cruiser to open the door for her. When she was still unable to enter the vehicle again, he took the paper bag and walked back towards the driver’s side of the cruiser. When he climbed back into their car, she was already sitting in it, offering money to him. “Here’s your change, sir.”

Delgato nodded while taking the money. He then opened the bag, finding all the items he had asked her to buy, but nothing else. “You didn’t get something for yourself?”

“I told you I’m not hungry, sir.”

“You haven’t eaten anything for more than four hours, Hopps!” When she didn’t give a reply, Delgato shrugged. “Have it your way then. You wanna have a few fries, at least?”

“No, sir.”

“One Cricket McNuggets?”

“Certainly not, sir.”

A very eerie silence filled the cabin as Delgato unwrapped the big fish burger, which was almost twice as big as Hopps’s head. Out of the corner of an eye, Delgato saw Hopps watching him prepare his lunch. When he finally opened his mouth to take a bite, he made sure to put his fangs on full display. Something he hadn’t done in years, something his mother would have read him the riot act for.

Hopps gave a dry swallow.

Trying his hardest to chew in a manner he hoped would look nonchalant, he asked, with his mouth still being about half full: “How’s your leg?”

“Fine, sir.” There was a slight tremble to Hopps’s voice.

He swallowed. “You had some extensive muscle damage, I heard.”

“Like I said, it’s fine, sir. I was cleared for duty, sir. I certainly wouldn’t have been, had the injury not been fully healed, sir.”

Delgato raised an eyebrow. That was the longest statement she had made in his presence all day.

And he had never been called “sir” three times in one utterance.

It was an unspoken rule that police officers working on the beat rarely used ranks or titles among themselves. While some opted to use nicknames, just like Air Force pilots did, most simply called each other by their respective first names. Delgato had been called Freddie for most of his career, and he had never insisted on being called “sir” or being addressed by his rank.

And it felt increasingly foul to do this to her.

“Muscle injuries are not to be trifled with,” he said while taking another bite, making sure Hopps would still be able to see his predatory denture in all its glory. When he saw her turn her head sideways, opting to look out of the side window instead, he knew he had succeeded.

Without looking at him, she stated: “I am fully healed, sir. I was even able to go for a bit of running this morning, sir.”

“You went for a run?”

“I did, sir. I do it at least every other day, sir.”

Delgato had never liked running very much, he had always preferred to stay in shape simply by doing his usual judo training, three times a week. “Do you enjoy it?”

“I do, sir, particularly with my new partner.”

Delgato made a frown and looked at her. “Your new partner?”

Since she had still turned her head away, he wasn’t entirely sure, but a hint of a smile seemed to grace her features. “Nick Wilde asked me to help him improve his stamina, so we went on the run together, sir.”

_Bogo will certainly like to hear that he’s that determined_, Delgato thought. “He’s really serious about becoming a police officer?”

At this, Hopps turned her head again and gave him a look that screamed annoyance. “It sounds like you don’t approve, sir.”

For a fleeting second, Delgato was torn between denying or confirming it. He had no problems with Wilde becoming a police officer, just as he had no problems with Hopps being one.

She was annoyed enough with him already. Was it really wise to antagonize her any further?

“Oh, I do approve. But I happen to know that he wasn’t exactly a law-abiding citizen so far. Is his heart really in it?”

“It is, sir.”

“Are you sure? You know that your life could depend on it.”

At this, Hopps gave a scowl, dropping every last pretense of wanting to be friendly towards him. “I have put my life into Nick’s paws, sir. He didn’t let me down. He offered his assistance when nobody else was willing to do so. So I would ask you to never question the trustworthiness and integrity of my friend again!” She made a pause and added, very tersely: “Sir.”

Delgato couldn’t help staring at her open-mouthed.

Over the course of the last few hours, he had heaped an enormous amount of abuse on her, but she had taken everything in stride. Until now.

Until he had belittled her friend.

_Very interesting, this!_

“I won’t, Hopps,” he heard himself say.

_Now why did I just say this?_

“Good,” Hopps countered and looked out of the side window again.

Delgato heaved a sigh. “Listen, Hopps, I know your friend has been mistreated for most of his life. I know how that feels, believe me! When Bellwether forced Bogo to kick me out … do you honestly think it felt nice?”

At this, Hopps’s ears drooped, and she turned back towards him, a look of contriteness on her features. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“For what?”

“For being the reason the Chief had to suspend you.”

Delgato shook his head. “It wasn’t your fault, Hopps. Bellwether merely used you, and if she hadn’t, she would have found another mammal to hoodwink. Besides, I was reinstated, I was promoted, I received an award for Exceptional Merit _and_ financial compensation, so no harm’s been done.”

“I’m glad to hear that, sir. And congratulations on your promotion, Sergeant.”

“Thank you, Hopps.”

Hopps looked out of the side window again, and the eerie silence once again enveloped them like an uncomfortably tight glove. Delgato just sat there, completely unsure what to do next.

He had, on Bogo’s request, mistreated Hopps constantly. He had tried to push all her buttons, antagonizing her in the process. He had hated doing it, but Bogo had been right: The only way to harden a sword is by exposing it to intense heat.

He just hoped he hadn’t overdone it.

_I have! I most certainly have! She thoroughly hates me now!_

_Way to go, Freddie!_

He was just about to open his mouth to apologize to Hopps, when her ears suddenly became erect again. “10-31 in progress, sir!” she said.

“What? Where?”

She pointed towards two wolves. “Suspected drug-trafficking.”

Delgato’s gaze followed her gesture, and sure enough, he saw the two mammals exchange small packages and money, all the while watching their surroundings. “And in plain sight of a police cruiser! The nerve!”

“Obviousness is the best disguise, sir.”

_A sentence taken straight out of one of the Academy books_. “Let’s get the bastards!”

* * *

**I know that this is subject to debate within the fanfiction community, but Judy really is an obligate herbivore. Every bunny is. She had to reject Delgato’s offer, simply because she cannot digest meat/insects. Tiny amounts, and I mean _very_ tiny, may be okay, but having her feast on a lion-sized Cricket McNugget is a sure-fire method to kill her. A rabbit’s intestinal tract is quite long, typical for a herbivore, and it offers little in terms of muscles. The deal’s basically this: new food goes in, old food goes out. (It’s more complicated than that, of course.) This means two things: One, bunnies cannot vomit, two, food they cannot digest, like meat, stays in there. And may rot in there. Which will lead to a very painful, very horrible death.**

**I’m not exaggerating here - I wish I were. Feed a rabbit meat, it dies. Feed it hay, and it has everything it’ll ever need.**

**I also added a mistake in here, albeit a deliberate one, just for the sake of the storyline: Not allowing a rabbit to eat for more than several hours is a sure way to cause problems. Rabbits need to eat on an almost constant basis, just because of the lack of intestinal muscles. Having Judy go without food for so long a time will surely weaken her. Maybe she found a way to eat her own poop somewhere down the road, I don’t know.**

**Yes, bunnies eat their own excrements, at least parts of it - this is called coprophagy. It’s the only way for bunnies to gain the crucial vitamin B12, which you won’t find in plant matter. And a vitamin B12 deficiency may lead to extensive nerve damage in a very short amount of time.**

**The fact that Delgato was promoted and received an award and financial compensation for having done police work while being illegally suspended is in fact a nod to one of my most faithful readers, Harbinger aka Combat Engineer, who had pestered me about this for weeks, and rightfully so, I might add. Harbinger kept asking for any sort of compensation for the poor predators who had been made to suffer by Bellwether and her cronies. While I totally agreed with this point of view, I never quite found the opportunity to do it in “Wound.” So there you have it!**

**And just in case you’re wondering, no, I don’t hold the criticism against Harbinger, to the contrary! I really appreciate the thought he invested on my story, the perfectly justified criticism. It was an oversight I never really cared about until it was persistently rubbed under my nose. Thanks yet again for that, my friend!**

**In case you come across a similar oversight of mine, a similar mistake, please let me know, so I can do something about it, okay?**

**Yet again, I’m playing the quotes game here, like I did in “Wound.” I hid a few quotes or references in this chapter, and I’m asking you, dear reader, to find them. If you do, I’ll make sure to tell everyone that you were the one to find it.**

**I added a very short line from one of the Harry Potter movies in here. Last time, nobody was able to find it. Let’s see if this changes this time around ...**

**And has anyone found the PIXAR reference yet? I bet you will - it was found in no time flat last time!**

**That’s it for this chapter! Thanks for reading! And please, send me your comments!**

**Take care!**

**Jens “TheCatweazle” Ostendorf**


	3. The Gauntlet II - Differing Reports

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

**Given the fact that so little time has passed between this chapter and the previous one, it’s hardly surprising that I don’t have all that much to say at the moment. Merely this:**

**Thanks for reading this story thus far, and thanks to The Wildehopps Protection Agency (WHPA) and Thehellion115 for commenting on it! Although it needs to be said that inhaling Kickstart may be hazardous to your health ...  
**

**The two references I hid in the last chapter haven’t been found yet, which is, again, hardly surprising.**

* * *

Chapter Three

** The Gauntlet II - Differing Reports **

_They see you as small and helpless. They see you as just a child. Surprise when they find out that a warrior will soon run wild._

Jeff Williams feat. Casey Lee Williams: “This Will Be The Day” (Written by Jeff Williams, from the album “RWBY Volume 1 Soundtrack,” Rooster Teeth Productions, 2013)

* * *

**Patrol Vehicle A113, Sahara Square, Zootopia**

Delgato had fully expected Hopps to jump out of the cruiser at once, if only to get out of the huge predator’s immediate vicinity. To his surprise, she remained seated and calmly checked whether her tranq gun was in working condition. After putting it back in the holster, she said: “I’m ready, Sergeant! I will cover you, sir!”

Delgato nodded, and after telling Clawhauser at Dispatch about the situation, he stepped out of the car, with Hopps following suit. He looked over his shoulder, down at her. She was walking behind him at a distance of roughly five of his steps, her right paw resting on her hip, near the taser. Just as regulation dictated.

_And yet another textbook approach!_

If there was one thing that had struck him as remarkable, it had been the fact that everything Hopps had done so far, be it approaching suspects or dealing with civilians asking for advice, could have served as an example at the Academy. It seemed that she had read every textbook used during training and thoroughly memorized their contents, down to the last letter.

Bogo had told him that she had been valedictorian of her class. He didn’t doubt this for one second.

As they closed in on the two wolves, neither of whom seemed to have spotted them so far, surprisingly enough, Delgato looked at Hopps again, grinning this time. “Wanna know how I became the riot at every party?”

Hopps didn’t reply - she didn’t even look at him. All she had eyes for were the two wolves. Delgato shrugged and turned his head towards them, too. Taking a deep breath, he opened his mouth wide and let loose with a wail that sounded astonishingly similar to the siren of a police cruiser.

Both wolves’s heads shot up, looking in their direction. “Good afternoon, Gentlemammals,” Delgato said affably, smiling at them. “General identity check. May I see …”

This was as far as he got, because both wolves turned away from them and ran down the street.

And they were alarmingly fast.

“Shit!” Delgato exclaimed and broke into a run himself. He had never been much of a runner, neither when it came to outright speed nor when it came to endurance. He simply was too big to be nimble and too heavy to be fast, and since he rarely bothered with pure cardio training, any pursuit taking longer than maybe two minutes left him completely winded. And given the fact that both wolves opened up a sizeable gap within seconds, it became obvious that the odds weren’t in his favor. He lunged for his tranq gun automatically, but he knew that his chances of being able to hit the perps while they were all running as fast as they were able to were virtually nonexistent.

_I’m losing them! Great! Way to …_

Suddenly he heard a female voice shout: “Stop! In the name of the law!”

And a blue and gray blur shot past him.

Of course, the wolves didn’t stop, to the contrary. They tried to run even faster.

Still, the tiny blue and gray speck was gaining on them, fast.

Delgato watched in fascination as Hopps, having closed the gap to the slower of the two significantly, suddenly jumped up and delivered a devastating dropkick to the wolf’s back. The mammal was literally catapulted off his paws and crashed head-first into a piece of shrubbery lining the pavement. And with this being Sahara Square, the bush offered little when it came to leaves, but plenty when it came to thorns. With a yelp of pain, the wolf became completely entangled within the bush, thrashing wildly, tearing his silk shirt to shreds. Within seconds, small portions of his gray fur began to turn red, as he started to bleed from several tiny wounds he was ripping into his skin in his desperate attempt to flee.

_Getting him out again_, Delgato thought, _will be a nightmare! And pulling the thorns out of his fur will be even worse!_

There was not even the slightest chance that the wolf would be able to extricate himself, there was no way for him to free himself on his own. Delgato ignored the culprit for the time being and continued his pursuit.

Only to find out that it was already almost over.

The other wolf, having heard the cry of pain and having realized that his pursuer was no more than a tiny bunny, stopped and turned around.

And Delgato heard rather than saw the unmistakable flick of a switchblade.

With a jolt of almost physical pain, Delgato became aware of the fact that Hopps was on her own. He was much too slow and much to far away to assist Hopps in taking down the wolf. Both were still more than fifty yards ahead of Delgato. He slowed down and raised his paw holding the tranq gun, but he knew he would neither be fast enough nor able to hit the wolf at this distance. Not with a tranq gun.

All the wolf needed to do to take down the bunny was one quick thrust of his paw.

A thrust he delivered immediately.

But his attempt never hit the mark.

Without slowing down, Hopps had jumped up again, sailing right over the threatening blade. Turning around in mid-air to somersault over the wolf, she delivered a slap to one of the wolf’s ears. Not a powerful slap by any means, but it was enough for the wolf to slightly lose his balance.

Apparently, that was all Hopps needed.

Having landed on her paws behind the wolf, his back turned towards her, she jumped up again just as he was turning around, and a kick so fast that Delgato was barely able to see it knocked the switchblade out of the wolf’s paw. With a clatter, it fell to the pavement, halfway between the two combatants and Delgato.

The wolf, disarmed, gave a snarl and lunged for Hopps, his claws swishing through the air menacingly. His attempt at a strike, however, went wide as Hopps merely ducked.

And like a coiled spring, she used her crouch to gain momentum and jumped up again, paw extended.

Suddenly the words of one of Delgato’s judo trainers popped up in his mind.

_Even the weakest mammals can be enormously powerful, when kinetic energy is their ally._

With enough force to shatter bricks, Hopps’s paw connected with the wolf’s midsection, at exactly the right spot. So fierce was the punch that the wolf was lifted off his paws for a fraction of a second. The much larger mammal gave a gasp of pain and staggered, trying his hardest to take a breath, but with his diaphragm being temporarily paralyzed, it was an exercise in futility. With almost comical slowness, the wolf sank to his knees, then he fell to the side, gasping and whining in obvious pain.

Delgato slowed down to a stop, breathing heavily.

_What the heck has just happened?_

He would have lost the culprits. Even with McHorn by his side, they still would have lost them.

Hopps had caught both of them, all on her own.

And it had looked as if it had been ridiculously easy to her.

_That’s the second time I got my ass handed to me by a small mammal!_

Delgato suppressed a sigh.

_I’m getting old!_

Hopps straightened herself and said, very matter-of-factly: “You, sir, are under arrest for suspected drug trafficking, resisting arrest, obstructing a police officer in the performance of her duties, and attempted murder of said police officer with a bladed weapon. You have the right …”

_Damn it, she isn’t even out of breath!_

Delgato was deeply impressed.

But he knew he wouldn’t be allowed to show it.

_I hate you, Adrian Bogo!_

“Hopps!” Delgato shouted.

Hopps turned around, standing at attention. “Sir?”

“What were you thinking?” he snarled. “Attacking two wolves? Do you have a death wish or what?”

Hopps looked up at him, her features hardening slowly. “What should I have done, sir? Let them get away?” Her voice was just as frosty as her whole demeanor.

“When you are faced with a situation like that, you retreat, call in and wait for backup!”

Hopps took a deep breath. “With all due respect, sir,” she said in a tone indicating she felt no respect for him at all, “if I had done that, those two would have been over the hills and far away!”

“Then let them get away! Better that than risking your life!”

Hopps looked down at herself as if checking whether she was still in one piece. “I’m fine, thanks for asking, sir!”

Delgato shook his head.

The problem was that she was right.

She had taken down both wolves with the greatest of ease. Even though one of them had been armed, she had never been under any sort of threat, much less a threat for her life. The wolf would never have been able to hit her - she had been way too fast for this. She had merely evaluated the situation, realized she could take them out without putting herself in any danger, and had acted accordingly.

And she had done it in a most efficient manner, with little effort and to devastating effect.

He should be lauding her.

Instead he was giving her hell for this.

_I hate you, Frederick Delgato!_

“The next time we come across a situation like this, we play this by the book! You take matters into your own paws again, I will tear you apart, starting with your overlong ears!”

Said ears drooped immediately as Hopps looked up again.

And if the old cliché of looks that could kill had really been true, Delgato would have perished on the spot.

Suddenly, and quite irrationally, a sliver of fear went up Delgato’s back.

_I have just provoked one seriously dangerous mammal!_

* * *

**ZPD Precinct One Headquarters, Second Floor, Office Cubicles, City Center, Zootopia**

With a sigh, Delgato took the last page out of the printer, read it one final time, and signed it. Writing reports was the part of the job most police officers hated most. Delgato himself would have preferred facing a host of armed thugs to writing about arrested perps in quadruplicate.

Still, it had to be done.

Just like the hazing of Hopps had been necessary.

He leant back in his office chair, glad that she wasn’t around at the moment. Wouldn’t be around for the remainder of the day. Since their duty hours had ended half an hour ago, she had left the building a few minutes ago, without saying her good-byes to him. He had, however, distinctly heard her make her farewells for the day to Pennington, with whom she seemed to have developed a really good rapport.

It was the very same elephant who was just walking over, with surprisingly silent steps. Only his long experience of serving with her and his excellent sense of hearing told him that she was approaching.

“What’s up, Freddie?” she asked. “Hopps looked like she’s on the warpath.”

_She probably is_, Delgato thought.

“Sorry, Francine, but that’s between Hopps and me.” _And Bogo_.

Pennington gave a chuckle. “That’s the worst heap of bullshit I’ve heard in a long time! What’s the deal? Did she outshine you, and you tried to cut her down to size?”

Delgato stood up, trying to stare Pennington down. “I’m not about to discuss this with you, Francine!”

“Why not? Did you molest her? Did she molest you? Was …”

Delgato raised a paw, silencing her. “Please, Francine, the day was shitty enough already. Don’t make it worse!”

Suddenly, a loud baritone voice easily drowned out all other noises. “Delgato! My office! Now!”

_And it just got worse!_

Grabbing the freshly printed report, he pushed his way past Pennington. “Sorry. I don’t want to make the Chief wait.”

“You shouldn’t. See you!”

“Have a nice day, Francine.”

“You too, Freddie.”

With fast steps, Delgato walked down one set of stairs and arrived at Bogo’s office in less than a minute. Knocking tentatively, he heard the cape buffalo shout “Enter!” immediately. With a slight sense of dread, he opened the door and entered the room.

“Delgato,” Bogo said. “Have a seat.”

“You wanted to see me, Chief?” Delgato asked, probably unnecessarily.

“Indeed. You have written your own report, I see. May I have it?”

“Of course, sir.”

He gave his report to Bogo, who surprised him by merely putting it down on the desktop. “So, how was your first day with Hopps?”

Delgato heaved a sigh, inwardly pleased that Bogo didn’t seem to be angry at him. It wouldn’t have surprised him if he had been, because he was quite certain that Hopps had visited him earlier to complain about Delgato’s behavior.

Still, he had no idea how to put all this into words.

“That bad, huh?” Bogo asked.

Delgato sighed again. “I don’t think I have ever enjoyed a day of duty less than today.”

“So you harassed her?”

“I did. Several times. And I can’t shake the feeling that she thoroughly hates me right now.”

“You think so?”

“I _know_ it.”

“Are you sure? When she was here half an hour ago, she seemed fine. A bit strained, maybe a bit tired, but fine.”

“She didn’t mention me?”

“No, she didn’t. All she did was hand in her own report.” He pointed to a sizeable stack of papers lying next to Delgato’s report. It was easily three times bigger.

“That’s her report?” Delgato asked. “All this?”

“All this.” Bogo gave a grin that looked somewhat dirty. “As you can probably imagine just by looking at it, it’s incredibly detailed. Perhaps I need to tell her one day that it isn’t exactly necessary to mention the eye color of the culprits you have arrested.”

“So you read it.”

“I did, and I came across something that struck me as odd.”

“What do you mean?”

“As thorough and well-written as her report is, it becomes surprisingly shallow on the details when it comes to the arrest of the drug traffickers.”

“How so?”

“Let me read your version first before I tell you.” Bogo put on his glasses, picked up Delgato’s report and thumbed through it. The Chief was well known for being an incredibly fast reader, taking in and memorizing even the tiniest details in less time than it took most other mammals to merely read the first page.

It was less than two minutes later that he put the report down again, one of his rare smiles on his face. “So she basically did all the work.”

“She did.”

“What’s your impression? Was there any moment during all of this where you had the feeling she was in way over her head?”

“No, not even remotely. The wolves could have carried guns, she would still have taken them out without breaking a sweat. I have rarely seen a mammal move that fast. She knew exactly what she was doing, and she did it in spectacular fashion. Her approach was absolutely textbook.”

“Ah. You wanna know what Hopps wrote?”

“Please, sir.”

Bogo adjusted his glasses while picking up Hopps’s report. “Where is it? Ah, here. Alright. ‘During our lunch break, Sergeant Delgato and I noticed two timber wolves who appeared to be in the middle of some illicit transaction.’ She goes on to describe both wolves in minute detail. Then it gets interesting. ‘We left our patrol car together, and Sergeant Delgato alerted the suspects to our presence.’” Bogo looked up. “What did you do?”

Delgato gave a weak smile. “I did my usual police siren shtick.”

Bogo actually chuckled at that. “Motormouth Delgato has struck again?” Looking down at the report, he continued to read. “‘Once the suspects became aware of our presence, they took flight immediately. We pursued them at once and managed to subdue both mammals. During our pursuit, one of the suspects was thrown into an _Acacia victoriae_,’ what the heck is that?”

Delgato shrugged. “A very prickly bush.”

“Ah. ‘One of the suspects was thrown into an _Acacia victoriae_, suffering slight lacerations in the process, the other suspect was mostly unharmed. After having called for an ambulance, and after the medics had taken care of the injuries, we took both suspects into custody and brought them to Precinct One.’” He made a pause. “And that’s it.”

“That’s it?” Delgato was flabbergasted. “Nothing else?”

“Nothing else indeed. And now you tell me,” he pointed at Delgato’s report, “that Hopps kicked one of them into a prickly bush and took the other guy out by punching him in the solar plexus.”

“That’s what happened, sir.”

“Any idea why Hopps would have neglected to mention that it was her, and her alone, who did all the work?”

Delgato merely shrugged. “No idea.”

Bogo pondered about this a bit. “Did she ever seem to be eager to prove herself?”

Delgato shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of. She did her job, and she did it perfectly. She covered me, offered protection, kept her mouth shut, followed every order of mine to the letter. She never once tried to outshine me. Apart from the moment when she did outshine me, because I wouldn’t have been able to.”

“You wouldn’t have caught them on your own?”

“Chief, if Hopps hadn’t taken the wolves down, they would be gone by now. She merely did what she had to do, because I was unable to do it.”

“So no signs of hubris whatsoever.”

“Rather the opposite, I’d say.” He pointed at her report. “Or why do you think she presented me in a better light than I actually deserve?”

“Why indeed?” Bogo looked at her report.

Delgato took a deep breath. “Let me guess. She told you she’ll file a harassment complaint against me tomorrow, right?”

Bogo raised an eyebrow. “No, she didn’t. Like I said, she didn’t mention you at all. She merely handed in her report, wished me a nice day, and that was it.”

“She didn’t?”

For a few seconds, Bogo merely stared at him. “What did you do to her?” he finally asked.

“What _didn’t_ I do to her? I showed her these.” He exposed his fangs for Bogo to see. “Almost freaked her out. I forced her to sit in our cruiser without any booster seat. She almost strangled herself with her seat belt. I was patronizing, I was menacing. I made her buy me lunch.”

Now Bogo raised both eyebrows. “I would hardly call this harassment.”

“When you are a bunny and the place you are told to get it from is ‘preds only,’ and when you are told to buy fish and crickets, I would.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. I also berated her for not waiting for backup after she had caught our drug traffickers.”

“How did she react?”

Delgato shrugged. “Let me put it this way: The temperature in our cruiser was probably close to zero degrees Fahrenheit. In Sahara Square.”

“So she was disrespectful?”

“No, at least not on the outside. Although I tend to think she feels little respect for me on the inside. I mean, would you show respect to someone who does nothing but haze you?”

“Did she contradict you? Show you a ‘better-than-thou’ attitude?”

“Definitely not. She only contradicted me twice. The second time was when I berated her after the arrests. And I must admit she had a point. I should have sung the praises, but all I did was reprimand her for taking matters into her own paws instead of reporting in and waiting for backup. But the first time …”

“The first time?”

“We were talking about Wilde. She told me she had been running with him this morning to prepare him for the physical part of his training.”

“So Wilde is prepping himself.”

“He is. Thought you’d be happy to hear it.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt Wilde’s resolve for one second. Not after what he did.”

“Well, I did. And she asked me, very harshly, I might add, never to question the integrity and trustworthiness of her friend again.”

“Aha? Interesting.” Bogo made a pause. “When she was here, she asked me a question.”

“Which was?”

“Whether it was the norm at Precinct One for rookies to be hazed.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I asked her what she meant, but she refused to elaborate, merely saying her good-byes and leaving.”

Delgato thought about this, finally asking: “You think I overdid it?”

Bogo shrugged. “Probably. Maybe you should tone it down a bit. But on the whole, I think you did a good job. We both know that when you are a police officer, you are bound to face some really hard times. If you aren’t prepared for that, you’ll crack. I wouldn’t want her to crack, because I think she can be an outstanding police officer.”

“I agree.”

“You do?”

“Oh yes, I definitely do. Everything she did today was straight out of a textbook. She made no mistakes whatsoever. There was none of the usual bumbling every rookie is condemned to do.” He made a pause. “Probably the main reason why treating her like this was so hard. I should have lauded her, instead I belittled her from the get-go.”

Bogo nodded and said casually: “Why don’t you start by giving her a booster seat tomorrow at least? Wouldn’t want her to be strangled on the job.”

“Would look bad on my résumé, eh?” Delgato hesitated. “She’ll probably just ask herself why I didn’t tell her to get one today.”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“Oh, I definitely would.” Delgato sighed. “I guess Hopps isn’t likely to be willing to call me her friend in the foreseeable future.”

“That remains to be seen. Maybe after all is said and done, you should explain your behavior to her.”

“And that would achieve what? Maybe she’ll forgive me, maybe she won’t. Maybe she’ll simply stop hating me and starts hating you instead. Do you want that?”

Bogo actually smiled at that. “You know, I don’t really care whether I’m loved or hated. I know that a lot of guys in here don’t like me all that much. But that’s okay. As long as they show me respect, I don’t care.”

Delgato blurted out: “I do care.”

“And that’s probably your greatest weakness.”

Without thinking, Delgato got up. “With all due respect, sir, I consider it a strength. I’d much rather be known for being compassionate than for being hated or feared.”

Bogo nodded and said in a very soft voice: “You want me to reassign you?”

Delgato just stared at him, then he sat down again. “No, sir, I don’t. I’ll see this through to the very end. But I know that I’ll hate every minute of it!”

* * *

**Grand Pangolin Arms Apartment Building, Top Floor, Apartment 514, Savanna Central, Zootopia**

Inside the tiny apartment, the only light illuminating the room came from a smartphone’s display, which showed a male bunny with an abnormally large gap between his buck teeth. The bunny sitting on the chair inside the room was in almost complete darkness otherwise.

Quite matching the darkness Judy Hopps felt towards a certain male lion.

But right now, she was even more annoyed by her own brother.

“Didn’t you listen? It’s as if he’s trying his hardest to make me furious! As if he’s expecting me to crack, doing something very stupid in the process, like hitting a superior officer.” She made a pause and added in an almost whiny voice: “As if he wants to make me turn in my badge.”

As if to infuriate her further, Billy Hopps merely smiled. “_I don’t think so_.”

“You don’t?”

Billy made a pause, obviously a deliberate one, for all he did was examine the nails on his right paw. “_Did I ever tell you about my time at Zootopia General?_” he finally said.

“Not that I recall.”

“_Maybe I should have_.”

“Why?”

“_Because then you wouldn’t be down in the dumps right now. When I began my internship at Zoo G, it took the guys working at the labs less than three hours to thoroughly antagonize me and my buddy Leroy. You do remember Leroy, don’t you?_”

“I do.”

“_Well, then you’ll probably remember that he tends to be a bit gullible. One of the guys working at the lab asked for us to bring him some voltage drop_.”

“Say again?”

“_You heard me. He wanted some voltage drop_.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense!”

“_When your superior tells you to fetch something, do you really question him?_”

“Er, no.”

“_Exactly. Fortunately, I was quite busy at the moment, but I had seen through the scheme anyway, sort of. Leroy hadn’t. So he ran from pillar to post to find someone who was able to give him voltage drop. Someone working at administration finally gave him a cardboard box full of broken computer equipment. Which was quite heavy, let me tell you. Imagine Leroy’s face when the guy who’d given him the order merely told him to put the stuff into the dumpster_.”

“So he was basically given a useless task.”

“_He was. Listen, Judy. I know it’s tough right now. But you still are a rookie. You still are the young hotshot. They don’t know what you’re capable of, they don’t know if they can rely on you. And until they do, they’ll put you to the test. And that includes being hazed. I know, I’ve been there myself. And after a few weeks, it suddenly stopped, and everybody started to treat me nicely. It was like a switch was flicked. Harassed one day, well respected the next_.”

“Just like that?”

“_Just like that. Ask around! Ask those workmates who treat you nicely. They’ll tell you similar stories_.”

“You don’t think they want to get rid of me?”

“_At this stage? Definitely not. Just think of the publicity: ‘Hero Cop Forced to Retire After Being Harassed by Workmate.’ They would be stupid to try and do anything like that. They put you to the test, but not to make you leave. All they wanna know is how good you are able to deal with pressure. Should you fail, you’ll simply be given a task where you can cause no damage, and should you decide to leave at that point in time, a few years down the road, nobody will care. Right now, they wouldn’t want you to leave. And if you do, if you crack now, they can merely say that is was your own decision, and that they have no idea why you made it, and that they’re saddened by the loss_.”

“What do you say? Persevere?”

“_Of course! Stay strong, Judy! Just weather the storm. It’ll pass. I wouldn’t be surprised if this lion of yours feels really horrible doing this to you_.”

“You think so?”

“_If he isn’t a certified asshole who enjoys causing other mammals pain and misery, and I don’t think he is, he’ll not like this very much_.”

“You think he was given an order to do this?”

“_Yeah, that’s a likely scenario. This Chief Bogo, he’s one of those ‘eats nails for breakfast and poops mortar shells’ guys, right?_”

Judy had to laugh at that. “That would be quite an apt description, I’d say.”

“_So he runs your precinct with an iron hoof_.”

“Oh, he has been gentle enough. But he can be as tough as they come.”

“_Figured as much. He’ll just want to know what stuff you’re made out of. So having giving that lion an order sounds quite likely_.”

“So what should I do tomorrow?”

“_Business as usual, Judy. You go to work, you do your duties to the best of your abilities, you endure the hazing. It’ll pass. The next weeks may feel like they want to put you in a grinder, but if you persevere, if you stand your ground and just do what you’re supposed to do, it’ll pass. Believe me, a few months from now, this is all but an awful memory, and you’ll enjoy working together with this lion_.”

Judy sighed. “At this stage, I doubt it.”

“_He’ll probably doubt it, too. Listen, Judy, I have to close shop now. My first seminar tomorrow is at eight o’clock in the morning_.”

Judy gave him a smile. “My alarm clock is set to 5 thirty.”

“_That early? Why?_”

“Because I want to go on a run before going to work.”

“_Did Nick really join you today?_”

“He did.”

“_How is he?_”

Judy grinned. “Slow. And he has no endurance he’s aware of.”

“_Say ‘Hi’ to him from me, will you?_”

“Will do, Billy! Good night!”

“_Good night! Sleep tight! Don’t let the bedbugs bite!_”

With a smile, Judy ended the call and placed the smartphone on the table. She then bowed forward and banged her head softly against the tabletop.

“I am a real cop. I am a real cop. I am a real cop …”

* * *

**Oh my! Two absolutely miserable mammals! So what’ll happen next? Stay tuned to find out!**

**Yes, the “claws” of rabbits are rather called nails. They’re rather thin, therefore they’re excellent for burrowing and scratching (and I have the scars to prove it), but completely unsuited for ripping and tearing.**

**The voltage drop story actually is completely authentic. My mother once told me the story of how her father, my grandfather, who ran a china shop, treated his apprentices. By all accounts (I never got to know him personally, he died half a year after I was born), he was a fair boss and quite beloved by everybody, but he also was a prankster. He was well known for asking his apprentices to bring him some “Spannungsabfall” (voltage drop) from a nearby shop run by a friend of his. And this friend told his employees to simply collect all the rubbish they could find and put it into a cardboard box. So the apprentice was returning with the (invariably very heavy) box to the china shop, only to be told by my grandfather to throw the stuff out immediately.**

**Not very nice when you are on the receiving end of the prank, but hilarious when just being told.**

**You wanna have a laugh at my expense? How about this:**

**When I was a rookie at the Bundeswehr, one of my superiors gave me the order of getting him some “Gewehrreinigungspatronen” (rifle cleaning shells). Of course there is no such thing, and deep down inside I knew this, but do you really question the orders of your Sergeant when you are but an Airman? I didn’t, so I wasted one complete afternoon running around like an imbecile, desperately trying to find some, asking the butcher, the baker, and the candlestick maker where I could find the elusive rifle cleaning shells.**

**Yeah, I’m quite the doofus, I know!**

**The “Motormouth” line, Delgato’s ability to imitate sound using his voice, is a nod to all the beatboxers and noise imitators out there, particularly to Michael Winslow, the “Man of 10,000 sound effects,” who played Larvell “Motormouth” Jones in the Police Academy movies (if you’re interested, you should watch his Led Zeppelin and Jimi Hendrix impersonations on YouTube), and to a British guy named Darren Foreman, commonly called Beardyman, who, in my humble opinion, is the best beatboxer in the world. The stuff he can do using only his voice is absolutely astonishing! Check him out on YouTube and prepare to be thoroughly amazed!**

**I actually hid two quotes in this chapter by accident, and when I was alerted to that fact, it came as quite the surprise to me. But since this is a new re-telling of this story, I’m asking you now:**

**Which song from Led Zeppelin did I hide in this chapter?**

**And where did I find Billy’s goodnight wish? There are several possible solutions to this one ...**

**Thanks a lot for following this story! And please, send me your comments!**

**Take care!**

**Jens “TheCatweazle” Ostendorf**


	4. The Gauntlet III - Turning Tables

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

**Three chapters in one day! I guess that’s a new record! Thankfully, these chapters are quite easy to do. Since they never really belonged to “Wound,” they have always been somewhat of a standalone affair, which means there simply isn’t all that much that needs doing - I mostly need to adapt the author’s notes, that’s all.**

**Thanks to everyone for following this story, and I also want to thank niraD for sending a comment! In it, he told me that he had found the PIXAR reference I hid in chapter 2. It was, of course, the patrol car’s designation, A113, the name of one of the classrooms at California Institute of the Arts, which was visited by a lot of animators who later found work at PIXAR, Disney or similar companies. PIXAR has made it a habit of hiding “A113” in all of their movies, and there are a lot of references to it in other movies, animated or otherwise. Congrats to you, niraD, for finding that one!**

**The other quotes have yet to be found.**

* * *

Chapter Four

** The Gauntlet III - Turning Tables **

_The dream that you’ve always dreamed is suddenly about to flower._

Jeff Williams feat. Casey Lee Williams: “This Will Be The Day” (Written by Jeff Williams, from the album “RWBY Volume 1 Soundtrack,” Rooster Teeth Productions, 2013)

* * *

**ZPD Precinct One Headquarters, Briefing Room A aka “Bullpen,” City Center, Zootopia**

“All other assignments remain the same. Dismissed!”

It took Frederick Delgato some effort to get to his paws. His night had offered him little in terms of relaxing sleep. For some reason, whenever he had closed his eyes, the image of a raving mad Hopps had popped up inside his head. At one point, she had even been armed with a switchblade. When his alarm clock had finally disrupted his fitful slumber, he had felt as if he hadn’t slept at all.

And judging by the way Hopps looked, her night hadn’t been any better. There was something distinctly disheveled about her looks. Her uniform was immaculate, of course, yet it looked strangely unkempt, and her fur looked as if it hadn’t seen a brush in weeks. Her face was impassive and her voice void of any emotions as she saluted him. “Good morning, Sergeant, sir!”

“Good morning, Hopps.” He made a pause. “Ready to make the world a better place?” It was a blatantly obvious attempt at being less harsh to her, but after having had less than two hours of sleep, his mind wasn’t providing him with any great ideas for how to treat Hopps properly.

Hopps narrowed her eyes, but said nothing, merely stepping aside to let him walk past her. As he did, Delgato suppressed a sigh.

_That doesn’t bode well!_

* * *

**ZPD Precinct One Headquarters, Parking Lot, Patrol Vehicle A113, City Center, Zootopia**

Delgato was already sitting inside their cruiser when Hopps climbed in. She hesitated for a brief moment when she saw the booster seat he had placed on the passenger seat before he had left for home the day before. But again, she said nothing as she sat down, not even looking at him. As she fastened her seat belt (with significantly less difficulty this time), Delgato told Clawhauser that they were about to assume their patrol duty.

“_Oh, and Judy?_”

Hopps smiled, although it looked a bit forced. “Yes, Ben?”

“_Are you interested in some quality entertainment?_”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“_Every Tuesday evening, me and some guys from work usually go to The Watering Hole for a drink or two. You wanna join us?_”

Hoops seemed to ponder on this a bit. “Sure, why not? The Watering Hole, you said?”

“_Yep. It’s a bar in Savanna Central. Freddie can tell you where to find it_.”

Hopps looked up at Delgato, who shrugged. “We’ll pass the place on our way to Sahara Square. I’ll point it out to you.”

Hopps looked at him for a second, then she nodded. “Much appreciated, sir.”

“_Great!_” Clawhauser said. “_Tonight at seven?_”

“I’ll be there.”

“_Excellent. Clawhauser out!_”

As Delgato turned on the engine, he thought about Clawhauser’s invitation.

_Why didn’t he tell Hopps that I am one of the “guys from work” going there?_

_And why didn’t _I_ tell her?_

* * *

**Patrol Vehicle A113, Sahara Square, Zootopia**

To Delgato’s surprise, the patrol didn’t turn out to be half as bad as he had feared.

Sure, Hopps didn’t exactly treat him in a friendly manner, but at least she didn’t subject him to open hostility.

If there was one word to describe her behavior, it would have been “indifferent.”

She didn’t reply to his feeble attempts at making small talk, she ignored his comments on the weather (blisteringly hot, of course, seeing that they were in Sahara Square), his pointless banter passed her by completely unnoticed.

He truly felt like doing the patrol all on his own.

Hadn’t it been for her hyper-vigilant observation of their surroundings, he would have called her presence completely pointless.

It was Hopps who’d alerted him to the fact that a tiny tiger cub was standing all on his own on the pavement, bawling his little eyes out, obviously having lost sight of his parents. It was her who’d pointed out the illegal gambling going on in broad daylight. She spotted the three parking offenders. She saw the signs of domestic violence when they were passing a rather empty neighborhood.

And yet again, her every approach to all those situations could have served as an example in the Academy’s textbooks.

She had given him no reason to treat her harshly, because everything she did was as correct as you can possibly make it.

But apart from all her faultless behavior, the number of words Hopps said to him of her own volition was still negligible.

It was slowly threatening to become almost painfully boring. And being as tired as he was wasn’t helping either.

During their lunch break (he had bought his own food this time, and Hopps had opted to buy herself a smoothie - judging by the smell of it, it consisted of apples and carrots, with a bit of basil and parsley thrown into the mix), he looked at Hopps.

“Bogo told me you didn’t write in your report that it was you who caught the wolves yesterday.”

Hopps looked at him. “So?” Her voice was completely passive.

“Why didn’t you do it?”

“You mean apart from the fact that I was taught at the Academy that all those details aren’t exactly necessary and even considered to be decidedly uncomradely, sir?”

Yet again, she was perfectly right.

Bogo’s usual attitude towards arrests like the ones they had done the day before was that he didn’t care who caught the perpetrators, as long as they were caught. Especially if you had been the one to achieve it, mentioning it in your report was regarded as bragging and therefore frowned upon. Bogo was well-known for saying that “arrests are made by individual mammals, but the perps are brought in by the team.” The team received the plaudits, not the individual officer. Going against that guideline was generally considered to be in very bad taste.

Delgato nodded. “If they told you that at the Academy, then why was the rest of your report that detailed? According to Bogo, you even gave the culprits’ respective eye colors. But you didn’t mention that _you_ caught them and not me. Why?”

Hopps huffed. “You fully expect me to tell the Chief that I went against my own superior’s orders, sir? That I acted on my own accord, ignoring your opinion on the matter in the process, sir?”

Delgato leant back in his seat, thinking.

He hadn’t thought about it from this angle.

Hopps continued: “Your words suggest that you told the Chief that I did. Why, sir?” She made a pause. “To stress the point that I did it against your orders, sir?”

Delgato couldn’t help flinching.

_Damn! How do I get out of this one?_

Hopps turned her head away, looking out of the front windshield instead. “What did the Chief say, if I may ask, sir?”

“I didn’t tell him because you went against my orders!” he blurted out, then he froze.

_Why did I just tell her this?_

Hopps looked at him again. “You didn’t?”

Delgato pulled himself together. “I hadn’t even given you an order. There was no time.”

“Then why did you tell him, sir?” Hopps’s voice was soft.

Delgato sighed, and now it was him who looked away and through the windshield. “Let’s just say Bogo approved of your actions.”

_Damn it! I’m supposed to treat her harshly, not commend her!_

_This is slipping away from me!_

“I see,” Hopps simply said.

The silence that followed was almost deafening.

* * *

**“The Watering Hole” Bar, Savanna Central, Zootopia**

The remainder of their patrol had been mercifully uneventful. Sure, they had had several incidents to deal with, but nothing out of the ordinary (two more parking violations, a dispute between a shop owner and his customer, one small-time pickpocket). And since Hopps had continued to perform admirably, she had given Delgato no reason to harangue her any further.

Her demeanor towards him hadn’t changed though. She had still treated him with casual indifference.

And the longer the patrol had taken, the harder that one had become to bear.

Now, ten minutes to seven, he was approaching the counter inside The Watering Hole, where Reginald Pocock was greeting him with a grin. Most of his workmates had arrived already - since Bogo put so much emphasis on punctuality, arriving anywhere way ahead of time was deeply ingrained in every officer working at Precinct One -, and they were all sitting at a long table, or rather several tables pushed together, towards the back of the bar. There were only a few mammals missing, with Hopps being one of them.

And a tiny part of him hoped it would stay that way.

“Howdy, Freddie! How’s things?” Pocock raised his paw.

Delgato gave him a paw bump. “Fine.”

“Really? You don’t look fine to me. What’s eating you?”

Delgato decided to ignore the question. “I see that business is booming,” he said as he was looking around. Every table his gaze fell on was occupied - some mammals were even standing around in obvious want of something to sit on.

The tiger chuckled. “Great, isn’t it? Ever since Bellwether was put behind bars, business has been nothing but spectacular! It’s as if everyone wants to make up for not having been able to celebrate for months. By the way, the usual?”

“No, just a beer, thank you.”

“No scotch?”

“Not today.”

“You’re the boss!” As Pocock began pulling his beer, he said: “Seriously though, what’s wrong? You look like you haven’t slept at all.”

Delgato sighed. “I haven’t had much sleep, yes.”

“Why?”

Delgato hesitated. Assignments weren’t exactly a secret, since everybody with working eyes was able to see who was working with whom, but the finer details were, of course, not subject to public debate. “Bogo made me team up with Hopps this week.”

“The bunny? Oh dear! Don’t tell me, she’s given you the ‘better-than-thou’ attitude, right?”

Delgato blinked. “What? No, no, she didn’t.”

“Not? Then what’s the problem?”

“There is no problem. It’s just that …” Delgato hesitated again, then he shrugged. “Let’s just say that working together with her isn’t exactly what I’ve been expecting.”

Pocock chuckled. “Are you trying to tell me a tiny bunny is giving the mighty lion a hard time?”

“Of course not!” Before he was able to stop himself, he added: “If anything, I’m giving her a hard time.”

Pocock turned towards him so fast that he almost spilled the beer he had been pulling. “You do WHAT?”

Delgato cursed himself under his breath.

Pocock continued: “Are you harassing her? Making her do all the dirty work, while you chillax?”

Delgato stared at the tiger in astonishment.

He had known Pocock for almost ten years. They called each other friends.

Yet he had never seen him so livid.

“This is disgusting! Shame on you! Never thought you, of all mammals, would do anything like that!” Without any further comment, Pocock placed the beer in front of Delgato and turned away, effectively ending their conversation.

Delgato sighed.

_That had gone … well!_

He took the glass and walked over to the table where his workmates were sitting, most of whom had already spotted him arriving.

And they had obviously followed his dispute with Pocock, too. “”Hiya, Freddie, what’s up?” Markus Grizzoli asked. “What’s wrong with Reg?”

“You need to ask him,” Delgato said as he was sitting down on one of the unoccupied chairs.

“I’ve rarely seen him so mad,” James Fangmeyer said. “And we grew up together.”

“You did?” Francine Pennington asked.

“Of course! He’s my cousin.”

“You never told me.”

“Does it matter that our mothers are sisters?”

“Uh, not really.”

Adimar Mastiff gave a chuckle. “Sometimes I have the feeling of being related to half of Zootopia.”

“I don’t think so,” Alan Trunkaby said with a grin. “Or are you somehow related to elephants or zebras?”

Mastiff shrugged. “You never know.” He touched his muzzle as if wanting to check whether it had somehow turned into a trunk. That elicited a small laughter from all mammals around.

Pennington turned towards Delgato. “And now that Bogo’s definitely out of earshot, you can finally tell me what’s wrong with Hopps.”

Benjamin Clawhauser made a frown. “Why? What’s wrong with Judy?”

“That’s what I want to know from him.” Pennington pointed at Delgato. “Yesterday she looked like she was on a warpath, today she looked like she’d been sleeping under a bridge.” She looked at Delgato again. “And I can’t help thinking that you might be involved in the ‘Why.’”

Delgato shook his head. “I told you before, that’s between Hopps and me, Francine.”

“And I told _you_ before that this is bullshit!”

Both stared at each other, with Delgato trying his utmost to not be the first one to break the gaze. It was only after Mastiff cleared his throat that he dared to look away. “Let me guess, Freddie,” the wolf said calmly, “you had a one-to-one with Bogo, right?”

Delgato looked at Mastiff. “I had.”

Mastiff’s voice remained calm as he stated: “Thought so.”

“Wait a minute!” Clawhauser said, staring at Delgato. “Are you telling me that … that Bogo told you to bully Judy?”

Delgato stared at him. _How on earth did Ben figure out that one?_

“He did?” Grizzoli asked.

“That’s the only possible explanation I can think of!” Clawhauser said, his tone becoming more agitated by the second. “He talks to Freddie, Freddie teams up with Hopps, she’s absolutely furious afterwards.” He looked at Mastiff, who nodded. “See? Uncle Massie agrees with me!”

“I do,” Mastiff said gravely.

Pennington leaned forward, coming dangerously close to Delgato. “Is this true? Did Bogo really tell you to bully Judy?”

Delgato shrugged. _Might as well admit to it, if everybody knows it anyway._ “He might have.”

“And you did it?” Pennington asked.

“I might have.”

“What did you do?” Fangmeyer asked. “Showed her yours?” He opened his mouth to point at his impressive, gleaming white fangs.

With a start, Delgato realized that the atmosphere around the table had suddenly turned quite hostile.

And all the hostility seemed to be directed at him.

It was as if the temperature around the table had dropped by several degrees.

And suddenly, something inside his head just snapped.

“What should I have done, eh?” he shouted in such a loud voice that every mammal in the vicinity began to stare at him. “She got the Medal of Honor, and she’s just an Officer! She hasn’t even proven her mettle! She …”

“Are you shitting me?” Pennington seemed to be beside herself. “Hopps risked her life to solve the Savage Mammals case! She deserved that medal! You said so yourself! Would you have done the same thing? If you were as small as she is, would you have walked into the thick of things, knowing how bad the situation was, knowing that it might kill you?” She champed with obvious rage. “Not proven her mettle, my ass!”

Clawhauser seemed to be just as furious. “She was top of her class! Have you been? No! You haven’t even been good enough to be assigned to Precinct One!”

Delgato snarled. “Yes, but I finally made it there because I busted my ass off at Precinct Five for almost seven years!”

“And you think Hopps didn’t bust hers off during training?” Pennington shouted. “You think that just because she’s but a rookie, just because she’s a bunny, that she automatically has to prove her mettle over and over …”

“Alright, that’s enough!” Mastiff suddenly shouted. “Calm down, everybody!” His tone was friendly, but his features were stern. Everyone fell silent.

Delgato looked at him, and for a few seconds he was quite torn between wanting to thank him for intervening or wanting to run away from him before he would rip his head off.

Contrary to Pennington and Clawhauser, Mastiff looked supremely calm. His tone was also calm, almost casual. “So Bogo asked you to harass Hopps. Did he give a reason?”

Not for the first time, Delgato asked himself how Mastiff managed to radiate anger without letting it show in any way, shape, or form.

_Why am I suddenly feeling like sitting in an interrogation room, on the wrong side of the table?_

“Yes. He said that because Hopps had been awarded the Medal of Honor, she might be under the impression of being better than anyone else.”

“Did he tell you why he thinks so?”

“She did something similar when joining Precinct One. On her very first day, she walked up to Bogo, stressing the fact that she was valedictorian of her class.”

“That’s only because …” Pennington began to shout.

“Francine, please!” Mastiff’s tone suddenly became commanding. Pennington fell silent. With his voice calm again, Mastiff continued: “I assume she was assigned parking duty that day, right?”

“She was.”

“Have you ever been assigned parking duty?”

“Of course I have.”

“Did you like it?”

“Is that some sort of trick question? Parking duty’s the worst!”

“And it never occurred to you, or Bogo for that matter, that Hopps might only have stressed the point that she had been valedictorian of her class to avoid parking duty?”

Delgato had no idea what to say. The thought had never really occurred to him. When he didn’t reply, Mastiff continued: “Does she appear to be overly eager to prove herself? Does she seem to be full of herself? Does she display any sort of ‘I-am-superior-to-you-anyway’ attitude?”

Again, Delgato didn’t find the words to reply, so Mastiff merely stated: “So that would be a No. Did you enjoy it?”

Delgato’s jaw dropped. “What?”

“Did you enjoy making Hopps’s life a living hell? Did you enjoy subjecting her to harassment?”

“No!” Delgato shouted. “I hated it!”

“And yet you did it. Why?”

_Such a simple question!_

_And no answer!_

Suddenly Trunkaby, who had been keeping a close eye on the entrance, said hastily: “Watch it! She just arrived!”

“Thanks, Alan.” Mastiff still looked at Delgato, narrowing his remaining eye. “It’s about time you start thinking with both your heart _and_ your brain. Stop relying exclusively on what other mammals tell you! You should rather start relying on your own instincts! Start using that gray matter of yours yourself, or other mammals will use it for you! Start listening with your heart _and_ your ears!”

Delgato couldn’t help feeling like he’d just been slapped in the face.

These few short sentences, said in the calmest of voices, had felt more incisive than the harshest reprimand.

He was still looking at Mastiff, who merely returned the stare, when he heard Clawhauser shout: “Judy! Over here!” On that, Mastiff broke eye contact and looked in the general direction Clawhauser was indicating. Delgato did the same and spotted Hopps immediately. She was still standing near the entrance, her head swiveling around in search of the mammal who had shouted her name. She looked absolutely tiny among all the other mammals, and since that was the case, she had obvious difficulties spotting Clawhauser. It was only after the cheetah had begun waving enthusiastically that she was able to see him. She started walking towards the table.

Then her eyes fell on Delgato.

But only for one second. She tore her gaze away from him immediately. At the same time, her step slowed down significantly.

Yet she finally reached the table. “Good evening!” she said with a voice that sounded almost strained. She looked at one of the chairs which was far too big for her.

“Judy! How nice of you to stop by!” Pennington said merrily. Without further ado, she lowered her trunk and grabbed Hopps with it. The bunny gave a tiny “Yeep!” as she felt herself being lifted up and placed on the chair in a manner that looked surprisingly gentle. “You wanna have something to drink?” Pennington asked.

“I’ll go,” Fangmeyer said immediately, standing up. “My glass is empty anyway. What do you want, Judy?”

“Er, I can go myself,” Hopps said timidly.

“Nonsense!” Fangmeyer said. “Just pick your poison!” When he saw Hopps lunge for her wallet, he added: “And don’t bother paying for every glass. Reg is keeping tabs.”

“Uh, if you’d be so kind, I’d like to have one small apple cider.”

“One bunny-sized apple cider, coming right up!” Fangmeyer left the table.

“You’re late!” Clawhauser said, but their was no accusation in his voice. If anything, he sounded merry.

“Yes, sorry about that, but I was making a phone call, and I’m afraid I lost track of the time a bit.”

“No need to be sorry, Hopps,” Mastiff said genially. “It’s not like this is a life-threatening situation here.”

“Unless you drink yourself to death,” Grizzoli added, and everybody started laughing, with two exceptions: Hopps, who obviously wasn’t feeling entirely comfortable in the presence of her superior officers, and Delgato, who had rarely felt less cheerful than he did right now.

“If you say so, Major, sir,” Hopps said, looking at Mastiff.

The wolf looked down at his lumberjack shirt. “Do you see any rank insignia here, Hopps?”

“Er, no.”

“That’s right, no. There’s no rank order here at all. We’re all off duty. So relax, Hopps! No need to call me Major here, and certainly no need to ‘sir’ me.”

“Erm, how should I call you?”

“You know, that is a really good question,” Trunkaby said. He turned towards Pennington. “What did this fox, er, Wilde was his name, wasn’t it? How did he call him?”

Pennington chuckled. “The one-eyed Major.”

“Damn it! Won’t work! We have the rank again.”

“What a shame!” Mastiff grinned. “I guess we have to go with Adimar for the moment.”

“Adimar?” Hopps asked.

“Yes. My first name. It’s Gnugandan in origin. My ancestors were from Gnuganda.”

“They were?” Clawhauser asked. “I didn’t know! Mine were too! My great-great-grandfather was named Benjamin Richard Krallenhauser. He was the one who immigrated here. I’m named after him.”

“Really? Interesting. It’s a small world indeed.”

“Indeed. Are you named after someone, too?”

“I am, but I have to go back a few more generations. Back when my family was still living in Gnuganda, one of the family’s patriarchs was named Adimar. That was centuries ago, and to the best of my knowledge, the name isn’t used in Gnuganda anymore.”

“Do you know what it means?”

Mastiff grinned again. “I have no idea!” He looked at Hopps. “Your name’s Judy?”

Hopps nodded. “Judith actually, but everybody calls me Judy. Everybody except Nick Wilde, that is. He calls me Carrots or Fluff.”

“He does?” Trunkaby asked. “And you’re okay with that? I mean, those are quite the demeaning nicknames.”

Pennington chuckled. “He calls me Trunks. I guess it’s just the way he rolls.”

Hopps shrugged. “I don’t know, but when Nick says it, it somehow sounds okay.”

“Which means if anyone except him says it, you wouldn’t like it very much, right?” Grizzoli asked.

“Definitely not!”

“Okay, then I guess I have to stick with Judy.”

“You better.”

Grizzoli gave a grin. “Is that a threat?”

Hopps returned the grin. “Call it what you will, erm, Markus was your name, right?”

“It is.”

During the last sentences, Fangmeyer had returned to the table, holding two glasses, a tall one and one so tiny that it almost vanished in his massive paw. “Did I hear the name Nick? You were talking about Wilde, weren’t you? He sounds like an interesting mammal. Here you go, Judy!” He placed the tiny glass in front of Judy.

She took the glass immediately. In her paws, it turned into a rather tall drink. “Thank you very much, James!”

“What can I say except you’re welcome? So Wilde will really join us?”

Hopps took a sip and set the glass down again. “He will. He’s working very hard for it.”

“I’m sure Bogo will like to hear about this,” Mastiff said.

“He knows. I told him,” Delgato said automatically.

And one second later he wished he hadn’t.

Everybody turned their heads to stare at him.

And the looks he received weren’t all that friendly.

“You and Bogo were talking about Wilde?” Mastiff asked, his voice still almost eerily calm.

Delgato pulled himself together. “Yes, after Hopps had told me that she’d gone on a run with him to prepare him for his time at the ZPA.”

“Ah,” Mastiff said simply.

And then he turned towards Hopps. “Let me guess, there still is a lot of work that needs to be done before he gets there, Judy.”

“You could say that, A… Adimar.”

“Is he that slow?”

“Oh, his speed’s okay, for a fox, that is.”

“But no match for a bunny, eh?” Clawhauser said with a chuckle.

Hopps smiled at that. “Let me put it this way: I had to slow down quite a bit to match his speed. Or rather, his lack of speed.” Everybody laughed at that. This time, even Hopps herself joined in.

The only mammal that didn’t was Delgato.

All of a sudden, he felt quite alone at a table full of friends.

And he couldn’t help feeling that the respective friendships were under serious threat.

* * *

**And that’s how easily tables can turn!**

**I’ve already explained this in “Wound,” but in case you haven’t read that story, which you should (yet another attempt at shameless self-promotion), I’ll explain it again: I actually do know what the name Adimar means. It really is German in origin, a very old form of it. Which means I had to look it up, since I had never heard the name before - nobody uses it anymore nowadays. It translates to “famous for his kindness.” And just so you know, the name wasn’t even my idea. Galaxyexplorer74, yes, the very same one who suggested the chapter’s motto song to me, gave me this one as well. Thanks yet again for that!**

**And “Kralle” is the German word for claw, hence “Krallenhauser.”**

**I decided to make both Mastiff and Clawhauser descendants of immigrants, because of the fact I alluded to in the author’s notes of Chapter 13 of “Wound:” I just like the idea of Zootopia being the melting pot of immigrants from numerous different countries, much like the U.S. of A. is. And since the name “Adimar” is German in origin, and since “Hauser” is a perfectly normal last name in Germany, of course both had to originate from my version of Germany, Gnuganda. And the fact that I am German myself had some bearing in this matter, too. ;-)**

**There’s just one quote hidden in this chapter, and that’s all the help you’ll get from me. I’m confident someone will find it with ease anyway. And if you come across more quotes I added unintentionally, just name them, and you’ll receive your honorific mention in the next chapter!**

**That’s it for the moment! Thanks for reading this latest concoction, brought to you by your friendly neighborhood Catweazle, half nice guy, half demon!**

**Don’t forget to send me your comments. Preferably in droves!**

**Take care!**

**Jens “TheCatweazle” Ostendorf**


	5. The Gauntlet IV - Bad Habits

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

**And while I was at it, I was also able to deal with chapter 5 quickly. The changes I had to do here were, again, superficial.**

**And yet another dialogue-heavy chapter awaits you! I don’t know why, but to me, they are much easier to write than action-filled chapters. Maybe it’s because I, myself, tend to suffer from verbal incontinence. ;-)**

**Thanks for reading, and thanks to ubernoner for the comment! (And I still wanna thank you for the invitation - it truly is an honor!)**

**Unsurprisingly, the number of found quotes hasn’t changed at all!**

* * *

Chapter Five

** The Gauntlet IV - Bad Habits **

_In time your heart will open minds._

Jeff Williams feat. Casey Lee Williams: “This Will Be The Day” (Written by Jeff Williams, from the album “RWBY Volume 1 Soundtrack,” Rooster Teeth Productions, 2013)

* * *

**ZPD Precinct One Headquarters, Lobby, Receptionist’s Counter, City Center, Zootopia**

When Adrian Bogo entered the building, he was in a very fine mood. He had spent the evening in front of his TV set, watching the Zootopia Zingers as they were giving the Green Bray Packers a very thorough thrashing. After a fine night’s sleep, he had decided to forgo travelling to Precinct One by car and had walked over there instead, because the weather was absolutely perfect, with no cloud marring the sky, and a light breeze bringing cooling on what promised to be a very hot day. He was actually whistling a happy tune as he walked through the revolving doors.

And then his eyes spotted Clawhauser standing at his accustomed place behind the counter.

And the tune died on his lips.

Benjamin Clawhauser, ZPDs very own nice guy, the most friendly, optimistic mammal you could possibly think of, was giving him the stink eye.

For a fleeting second, this complete change of behavior, something he had almost never seen before, irritated Bogo, but then he decided that the cheetah’s obvious ire wasn’t directed at him. _Couldn’t_ be directed at him. Not at the Chief of Police, somebody Clawhauser adored.

“Morning, Clawhauser,” he said.

“Chief.” The reply was more of a snarl.

Bogo paused. “Is something the matter?”

“I’m not the right mammal to tell you, sir,” Clawhauser replied quite stiffly. “Uncle Massie wants to have a word with you.”

Bogo made a frown. It was highly unusual for Clawhauser to call mammals by their nicknames when talking about official matters. “You mean Major Mastiff,” he said in a tone that was slightly reprimanding.

“Yes, that’s the one, sir.”

Now Bogo was completely flummoxed. “What’s wrong, Clawhauser?”

“Like I said, he wants to have a word with you, sir.”

“Did he give a reason?”

“He’ll tell you himself, sir.”

Bogo inwardly shrugged. It was very obvious that something was bothering Clawhauser. He had rarely seen him that angry, and he had certainly never heard him be that tight-lipped - as a rule, he was rather talking too much than too little. Bogo could have tried to pry it out of him, but it probably wasn’t anything important, and at the current state of things, it might even antagonize Clawhauser further. And that was something he certainly didn’t want to happen, especially not after Clawhauser’s forced reassignment. “Did anything else happen tonight?”

Instead of answering, Clawhauser took a small stack of papers lying next to him and dropped it on the counter. He the proceeded to turn back to the female antelope he had been talking to when Bogo arrived, paying Bogo no further heed whatsoever.

_What the hell is going on around here?_

Shaking his head, Bogo took the files and walked over to the set of stairs leading to his office.

Where Adimar Mastiff was already waiting for him. In civilian clothing. Which wasn’t all that unusual. Most officers working at Homicide Squad wore civilian clothing, even during their duty hours - appearing in full uniform at the scene of a most gruesome murder often had the nasty side-effect of unnerving a lot of witnesses, who became much more talkative when the investigating officers were clad in civilian garb. The only thing that was strange was that Mastiff preferred to wear his uniform when he was at Precinct One.

“Morning, Adimar,” Bogo said.

“Good morning, Adrian,” Mastiff said with a smile. “I need to have a word with you.”

Bogo made a frown. The tone in which Mastiff had said this was just his usual, calm, friendly self. His choice of words, however, was highly peculiar. “You do know that I come here this early to have a look at the case files from the night shift, do you?”

Mastiff’s smile dropped. “That wasn’t a request, Adrian.” When Bogo merely stared at him, he added: “It was a demand.”

Bogo became stern. “I don’t think you get to make demands, Major Mastiff,” he said automatically, then he hesitated. Up to that point, he had never had to reprimand Mastiff for ignoring the order of rank. Usually it was Bogo who acted as if Mastiff was the Chief and not the wolf himself. “Seriously, what’s wrong, Adimar? First Clawhauser treats me like I’m a rapist, now you talk to me as if you’re my superior.”

Mastiff narrowed his eye. “I am one of the longest-serving officers at Precinct One, and it is my duty to inform my superior if I’m under the impression that he is making a grave mistake.”

And Mastiff certainly never rubbed rules and regulations under anyone’s noses, rather relying on the fact that said rules were known by everyone involved. “You speak in riddles.”

“You have no idea what I’m talking about, right?”

“You’re damn right.”

“All the more reason why you should listen to what I have to say to you.”

Bogo sighed while opening the door to his office. “All right. You know I can never say No to you.”

“I know, and that’s the only reason I’m this calm right now.”

Bogo stared at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I’m quite angry, and all that anger is directed at you.”

These words definitely gave Bogo pause.

Adimar Mastiff was one of the most calm officers he had ever seen. He had faced incredibly dangerous situations, he had been tasked with cases that other officers had become desperate over, he had worked under the most strenuous circumstances. And he had always managed to keep his cool. It was only when things really got out of paw, only when it was really necessary, that Mastiff didn’t strive for calmness anymore.

And when he didn’t, it was always a source of worry.

Because it always meant there was a huge problem to deal with.

“Alright, come in!” Bogo walked into his office, placed the case files on his desk and motioned for Mastiff to sit down on the other chair while sitting down himself.

Mastiff closed the door, and he even proceeded to lock it. “I need to talk to you about Delgato,” he said as he was sitting down in the chair.

Bogo frowned. “What’s wrong with him?”

“You really told him to harass Hopps?”

_Ay, there’s the rub!_

“I did, more or less. It wasn’t an order, of course, merely a suggestion. Why?”

“That’s what I wanted to hear from you.”

Bogo shrugged. “How many cops with the rank of Officer do you know of who received the Medal of Honor?”

“You’re sitting in front of one.”

Bogo flinched. “What? I didn’t know.”

“Because I usually don’t parade my orders around for everyone to see. During my fourth month of service, my team leader and I came across a bunch of mammals who’d been heisting one bank after another and had done so for months. The financial damage alone was tremendous, but it was made much worse by the fact that they had no qualms to injure or even kill bank clerks. Collateral damage, that’s what one of the assholes called it afterwards. When one of their heists became an outright fiasco, when seven clerks or customers ended up dead, we were withdrawn from all other tasks and given one single order: Find them and take them down! And after several weeks of the hardest work imaginable, after putting our lives in danger several times, we managed to do it. And since I had done most of said work, my team leader suggested me for the Medal of Honor, and the Mayor and the Chief agreed. And there you have it.”

“Well, I guess it’s a bit late to say my congrats, right?”

Mastiff huffed. “I’m not here for your approval. I still want to know why you gave Delgato the order to harass Hopps.”

“Like I told you, I haven’t given him an order. You know I can’t order him to do something like that. I merely asked him whether he would do it.”

“That’s a distinction without a difference. Delgato deals with it like it had been an order.”

“That’s not my problem. I don’t think I have any influence on what Delgato thinks.”

“But you have enough influence to make other mammals believe that you’re right.”

“You think I’m not?”

“You have rarely been more wrong, although Delgato certainly seems to think otherwise. So tell me, what did you tell him, Adrian?”

“I told him that Hopps isn’t ready. Can’t be ready. Not after such a short amount of time as a police officer. Don’t tell me you see this any differently.”

“No, I quite agree. Hopps certainly needs a lot more experience. She says so herself.”

“You talked to her?”

“We met in The Watering Hole yesterday, as usual, and Clawhauser had invited Hopps, too.”

“I assume Delgato was also there.”

“He was, that’s how I learned of this.”

“How did they react to the presence of each other?”

“One word? Badly. Hopps outright refused to even look at Delgato. Delgato in turn talked about Hopps as if she wasn’t even there. And all other officers treated Delgato like he has rabies.” When Bogo didn’t reply, Mastiff said slowly: “Do you start to see why I think you are walking the wrong path here? All the order you gave Delgato did was make two mammals absolutely miserable when they shouldn’t be, and it also gave team spirit a massive blow. For whatever reason, most officers seem to think that Hopps is truly one of them, ready or not, and harassing her is quite a sure-fire way to piss them off. They were just as angry at Delgato as they would have been if he had, for instance, harassed Clawhauser.”

Bogo stared at Mastiff in wonderment. The thought that Hopps might be met with general acceptance by her peers hadn’t even occurred to him, seeing how they had treated her when she had joined Precinct One. “They think Hopps is one of them?”

“Oh, they do. Each and every one of them. They have the crazy feeling that because she’s solved the Savage Predators case, that she’s proven her mettle.”

“They thought quite differently a few weeks ago.”

“Are you referring to the time when Hopps joined our group of merry mammals?”

“I do.”

“And you’re surprised they think differently now?”

“As a matter of fact, I am. Most officers treated her with a distinct lack of respect back then.”

“Yes, and they thought they were perfectly justified to do so. After all, she was just a bunny, just tiny, would probably be crushed by an elephant before long, the carrot-eater, the long-ear, the fluff-butt … Wasn’t that your line of thinking?”

“I don’t think my …” Bogo hesitated, then he shrugged. “Tell me yours was any different.”

“To be honest, when Hopps came here, I wasted no thoughts on her whatsoever. She wasn’t my problem to deal with, so I cared little for her. This changed, however, when she began doing the work the other officers were supposed, yet unable to do. I started taking notice. And what I saw, I liked. All other officers think along the same lines. They all held her in little esteem. That changed when she unraveled the Missing Mammals and Savage Predators cases. She’s shown she can pull her own weight, and do it good. Heck, she could pull _yours_ for that matter.”

He leaned forward. “And you think the exact same thing. You like her, and you like her _a lot_. You think she’s on her way to become an outstanding officer. She’s still a bit green, but that’s nothing a few months of service, hard work, dedication and the right amount of tutelage can’t fix. That sounds about right?”

“It does.”

“Then why, pray tell, are you trying to jeopardize it all by subjecting her to harassment?”

“I’m not jeopardizing it!”

“Aren’t you? The way I see it, you are just ruining Hopps’s motivation. That’s all you do right now.”

“I am merely showing her that the work of a police officer isn’t all sunshine and daisies.”

“And you think she didn’t know that already? Do you think she’s still that naïve? After all she has done, after managing to be top of her class at the ZPA, which certainly is no mean feat, given the fact that she’s a bunny, after finding the Missing Mammals, after exposing Bellwether and putting her behind bars? After having done parking duty at your behest? She did, didn’t she?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“So that would be a yes.” Mastiff leaned back again. “Damn! I had no idea it was that bad!”

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I had no idea you were that indoctrinated.”

“_Indoctrinated_?”

“Do you even know why we do parking duty?”

Bogo narrowed his eyes. “To find parking violators, of …”

“That’s not what I meant. The city of Zootopia rakes in the fines while we do the work. Why is that?”

“Because we are employed by the city.”

“So if we are, why is the city dependant on no less than 487 mammals whose only job it is to find parking violators? Mammals that don’t belong to the ZPD, I might add. And before you ask, I know the number’s right, I looked it up.”

Bogo sighed. “Because we don’t have the mammalpower.”

“Damn right, we don’t. And since that’s the case, why do you still assign parking duty to your officers?”

“Because it’s the best way to discipline new officers or …”

“So you obviously assume that everyone leaving the ZPA, every rookie joining the ZPD lacks discipline by default, right?”

Bogo shrugged. “You do know that things are done a little bit differently here than they are done at the ZPA, don’t you?”

“And what is parking duty going to teach the rookies? That life’s a piece of is shit when you look at it? That becoming a cop was a bad idea? That work sucks? Is that the general idea?”

“No, of course …”

“Then why do you do it? Why don’t you make the rookies team up with veterans instead who show them the ropes? Who give them a dressing-down when they screw things up? Who show them their place if they tend to think they’re superior? Don’t you think that would be a much more effective way of putting our rookies to good use?” Mastiff made a pause. “Like I said, indoctrinated.”

“Adimar, would you please explain yourself? You are still talking in riddles.”

Mastiff folded his paws over his chest. “Let me tell you a little story about your predecessor, Michael Ironhide. When I joined the ZPD, he wasn’t the Chief. Back then, it was Barbara Kendrick. A mighty fine woman, let me tell you! She’d become the chief simply because she oozed competence. As tough as the toughest of them, she was also very compassionate and always willing to step in on behalf of her officers. She protected us, but she didn’t hesitate to dish out severe punishment when somebody screwed up. But even when she did, she was always fair. We all loved her dearly. She was a great Chief, probably the greatest this city has ever seen.

“But she already was way into her fifties, so retirement age was looming. Looking for a successor, she’d found Ashraf N’komo, a zebra who would certainly have been a worthy new chief. He was just a model police officer, the kind of guy who makes you think that he can only have been created in a lab.

“Sadly, N’komo died when a kidnap went south and the kidnapper blew himself up with a suicide vest, taking down half the building and everyone in it, including N’komo, who had tried to negotiate with him.

“And less than six months later, Kendrick developed a very aggressive form of ovarian cancer. Before we knew it, she was dead, too.

“And there was no worthy successor.” Upon Bogo’s look, he added: “You seem surprised.”

“I am. I always thought Ironhide had become Chief on his own merit.”

Mastiff snorted. “Ironhide? He couldn’t find a coherent sentence with two paws and a flashlight! He had the necessary rank, and he had earned it, but he severely lacked both the competence and the humbleness needed to become a truly good chief. He may have been an outstanding SWAT team leader, but he was the worst chief you can possibly imagine. And things went downhill soon.”

“Wait a minute! Ironhide may not have been the most popular Chief, but he was a very competent …”

“Ironhide was a blithering idiot! There was only one thing he believed in, and that was the law of the jungle. Only the strong survive. You’re not strong? There’s the door. He wasn’t competent at all, not one tiny bit. Do you know why Clawhauser works at Dispatch today?”

Bogo hesitated. This sudden mental leap had caught him completely off-guard. “I seem to recall he suffered a major injury while on duty.”

“That’s right. Do you remember the last mob war in Tundratown, some twelve years ago?”

“Of course I do! Caught three bullets during one of their assaults. Took me out of action for almost half a year.”

“Was it really that long? Anyway, you certainly remember just how bad the situation was. Mammals were dying left, right, and center. Ironhide asked several precincts to assist us so he could assemble a team to shut it down. A really big team. In the end, it took almost one hundred and seventy police officers from six different precincts. But the sheer mammalpower did the trick, we managed to end the war and arrest a truckload of criminals. But during the final assignment, Clawhauser’s left leg was almost bitten off by a tiger he thought was unconscious. He survived, barely, and the doctors even managed to save his leg. But his days as a beat cop, his days working as a SWAT team member, were over.”

“I guess with all the confectionery he’s eating today, he wouldn’t be able to do it anymore anyway.”

“True, but you remember what he looked like when he joined us?”

“Yes. He was a lean, mean fighting machine.”

“That he was. Maybe he wasn’t the best cop overall, maybe he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, maybe he even wasn’t in the best physical shape imaginable. But he certainly was very fast, he never hesitated to go into the thick of things, he followed orders without question. And he’s a really nice fellow to boot. A good, solid officer, in pretty much the same line as, for instance, Delgato is.” Mastiff made a pause. “Ben wasn’t the only mammal who suffered injuries.”

“Don’t tell me you were injured, too.”

“I was. A rhino gored me. But I pulled through.”

“Of course you did.”

“Yeah. You know what I received for my work?”

“Your umpteenth Purple Shield?”

“Yes, there’s that, but I also received the Combat Cross. You know what Clawhauser received?”

“No idea.”

“The walking papers.”

Bogo’s jaw dropped. “_What?_”

“You heard me. He was no longer able to work on the beat, that one was clear. And everybody, including me, was sure that he would end up being a cripple, and for the record, I’ve never been more happy to be proven wrong. Ironhide’s thoughts had been quite similar. He thought that since he was no longer able to work on the beat, that he was completely useless. So he wanted to kick him out.”

“You cannot possibly be serious!”

“Believe me, I am dead serious! I had just left the hospital when I heard about it. So I went to Ironhide immediately. But he was absolutely adamant. I asked him why Ben wasn’t receiving the same plaudits I had received, seeing that we were injured in the very same sortie. And this douchebag had the audacity to tell me into my face that the difference between me and Clawhauser was that I was a Major and Clawhauser just a 3rd Detective. In his own words, I was way more important to the cause than Clawhauser was, and since he wasn’t willing to, and I quote him here, let the ZPD be weighed down by useless ballast, he had already signed the walking papers.”

“So why is he still with us?”

“Because I fought tooth and claw for him. I begged and pleaded to the old fool to keep Clawhauser on the roster. It was me who suggested that Clawhauser may become a dispatcher, something he’d always loved doing. Ironhide finally relented, but believe me, I rarely had to fight for something so hard.”

“Does Ben know?”

“No. He has no idea that his career was hanging by a thread, that I’m the reason he’s still with us, and I prefer to keep it that way. And if you tell him, I have to kill you.”

Bogo chuckled at that. “Duly noted. So, I agree, Ironhide screwed up there.”

“That wasn’t the only time he screwed up. He made officers team up that absolutely hated each other, claiming that all that hatred was building character. All the teams fell apart at one point or another. He put the most physically unfit officers on paw patrol, claiming that all that walking and running might turn them into good runners. It never did.”

“I never experienced any of this.”

“Because he loved you. You were the epitome of what he thought an officer should be like - incredibly strong, both physically and mentally. Of course he treated you like his most favorite son. Of course he gave you everything you ever wanted. Of course you never had to team up with someone whose sight you couldn’t stand. Of course you were only assigned those kinds of duty you liked doing. And I know that none of this is your fault. You just did what you had to do, and you did it spectacularly well.

“It’s an open secret that he desperately wanted you to become his successor. Unfortunately, there was me. I was the, ahem, ‘heir apparent,’ simply because the Mayor back then thought I’d be the best guy for the job. I had ten more years of service on my back than you, that’s why he thought I’d be better than you. Ironhide disagreed vociferously. He preferred you to be the one. They had some very hefty clashes over the issue, always comparing the two of us. Which wasn’t all that helpful, seeing that apart from my advantage when it came to experience, we were virtually identical, same rank, same unblemished reputation, roughly the same track record. There was only one major difference: I never wanted to become the Chief. You cannot imagine how happy Ironhide was when I told him so, because that meant that his personal favorite would step up to the plate.”

“You’re accusing him of favoritism?”

“I do. And like I said, it’s not your fault. It’s the way he was wired. That was just his mantra - only the strong survive, and you’re definitely much stronger than I could ever be. That was his line of thinking. It was _always_ his line of thinking. Whatever he did, he always tried to sort the wheat from the chaff. Maybe you remember that this was one of his most favorite catchphrases. He used it whenever possible, and he made a lot of mammals suffer in the process.

“Rookies, for example. He was the one who’d established the tradition that every rookie had to start his career doing parking duty. He thought that no rookie coming in could ever have developed the mental and physical toughness required for this job. So to toughen them up, he gave them the most hated job in all of Zootopia. And what did that achieve? Nothing. Nothing whatsoever. Did you never ask yourself why the number of tickets all those rookies issue is so darn low? The total number of tickets issued in this city each and every day easily reaches 1000, maybe even way more. So what a difference does it make if the rookie issues, let’s say twenty?”

“Hopps managed to do 292 on her very first day,” Bogo said silently.

“She did? Kudos to her! How many did you issue on your first day?”

“Gee, I don’t know. Thirtyish, maybe forty.”

“Did you like it?”

“You know full well that everybody hates parking duty.”

“So if you hate it yourself, why do you maintain the tradition? Do you honestly think it achieves anything? The mammals forced to do it are pissed off, and rightly so, I might add, so they certainly don’t overexert themselves, meaning that the number of tickets they issue remains negligible. The rookies don’t gain experience they sorely need. And they certainly don’t learn humbleness, to the contrary. Most are so eager to finally be allowed to do what they trained for, to do what they excelled at, they rush into things head over heels, only to be cut down to size again in the worst possible way. On the whole, nobody wins.”

“What do you say? I should stop ordering officers to do parking duty?”

“Would be a start.”

“Do you hate it so much yourself?”

Mastiff grinned. “Just so you know, I’ve never done any parking duty in my life. When I was a rookie, Kendrick was the Chief, and she only dished out parking duty to those who’d screwed up royally. Since I never did, I was spared. And when Ironhide took over, I was already so high in rank and so highly decorated that he didn’t dare putting me on parking duty. No, I simply want you to get rid of it because I think it’s utterly useless. You can use it as a means of punishment - that’s what Kendrick did -, but not to make rookies humble or to teach them their place. As a rule, rookies are taught at the Academy to know their role, and I’ve yet to come across one who thinks he’s superior. And should there ever be some, they’ll learn soon enough, when their team leader gives them a thorough tongue-lashing for screwing up.”

“Ironhide put me on parking duty after I had received my Medal of Honor.”

“And when I heard about it, I thought he was finally off his rocker. You had just achieved an outstanding feat, and you were punished for this? And you already were a Lieutenant, unless I’m very much mistaken. Just what was he thinking?”

“It wasn’t punishment! It …”

“So you enjoyed it that time around?”

“Of course not! But he wanted to prevent any feelings of hubris or stuff like that.”

Mastiff snorted. “Yeah, right! Adrian, we know each other for more than twenty years, and I have never seen you display any sort of hubris. You have always been rather modest, and you certainly don’t go around parading your awards, treating everyone else with a ‘I-am-better-than-you’ attitude. You _are_ superior to everybody here by definition, because you happen to be the Chief. And by the way, you earned it. I may have been the first one who was asked whether he wanted to succeed Ironhide, but that was only because I had about ten years of service more than you. In many ways, you were better than me, _are_ better than me, so I consider you to be a worthy Chief.

“You’ve always been an extraordinarily good police officer, pretty much from day one. There has never been any reason to reprimand you, because the mistakes you have made were few and far between, and they had always been outweighed by your achievements. There was no reason to subject you to parking duty. On top of that, I tend to think that the experience taught you nothing you hadn’t already known. It was completely and utterly useless, and it took a highly capable officer off the roster when we needed every able-bodied officer. Ironhide was basically punishing you for having done an excellent job. Very bad idea, all things considered. In essence, you doing parking duty, that was just harassment.”

Mastiff almost slouched in his chair. “When Ironhide was still leading Precinct One, harassment was the norm. And I don’t mean the harmless pranks we pull on each other. You know why I keep a squirt gun in my office? During our lunch break, I often take a short nap. That’s when one of my Homies walks into my office, takes my eye patch off and hides it. So when I wake up, I often have to search for the darn thing. They never tell me who the jokester is, and they are always surprised when I find out. The hiding place usually tells me the whole story. So the next time the culprit tries to leave his or her office again, they get soaked, courtesy of the squirt-gun-toting Pirate Greybeard. We have a laugh about it, and that’s it. And you wouldn’t believe the other pranks we pull on each other. All in good fun, never humiliating or outright annoying.

“That’s not what I’m talking about here. I mean the deliberate belittling of your workmates, the hazing, the bullying. All the stuff you made Delgato do. Everybody did it, because Ironhide pretty much set the tone. He was the worst bully you can possibly imagine. If you weren’t strong enough, you were bullied. _You_ were spared, because you were strong. _I_ was spared, because he didn’t dare do this to a guy who had almost as many years of service on his back as he had, to a guy who had an almost unblemished reputation.

“What does bullying achieve? Nothing! Hopps is a very good example. She knows her role, and she knows it very well. She’s humble, she’s modest. And she’s a damn good cop. She certainly isn’t that strong from a physical point of view, but seeing that she’s a bunny, that doesn’t mean a lot. She’s incredibly capable. I wouldn’t be surprised if she would make a good Chief at one point. Your successor, maybe?”

Bogo raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to get rid of me?”

“Of course not! But it never hurts to plan ahead.” Mastiff straightened himself again and leaned forward. “So why the bullying? Has she screwed up? No, she hasn’t. Her performance record so far is unbelievably good. So why do you think it’s necessary to bully her?”

He made a pause, as if waiting for an answer, but Bogo didn’t respond. And even if he had wanted to, he had no idea what to say.

“You don’t even know, right?” Mastiff nodded. “And that’s what I meant when I said you are indoctrinated. You do the things in the very same manner Ironhide did them. You never even ask yourself whether they’re right or not, you just do them. Ironhide’s influence on you was so massive, still _is_ so massive, that you stopped thinking for yourself at one point. You just follow along the same lines he walked. You never questioned his attitude. To you, everything he did was right. You also seem to think that only the strong survive. You tend to treat rookies just like he did, when they don’t deserve it. You resort to harassment just like he did. I joined the ZPD when things were quite different, and it was for the better. Team morale was better, mammals enjoyed their job more than they do today. Right now, both Hopps and Delgato thoroughly hate their jobs. Is that really what you want? Wouldn’t it be far better if they enjoy their given tasks?”

He sighed. “You’re a damn good Chief. I enjoy working for you, working together with you. It’s both a pleasure and an honor. But I feel obliged to tell you the same thing I told Delgato yesterday: It’s high time you start thinking with both your heart _and_ your brain. You still do the things the way Ironhide did them. Stop it! Start thinking for yourself, or other mammals will do the thinking for you! Stop trying to make mammals strong! Start making them _good_! Start listening with your heart _and_ your ears!”

He stood up. “You know, it sort of saddens me that I need to tell you all of this. You’re smarter than this! I shouldn’t be forced to do this to you. You should really start looking at what mammals can do when left to their own devices. Hopps surprised you when she found the Missing Mammals. She shouldn’t have. She was valedictorian of her class, so deep down inside you knew, or at least you should have known, that she was capable of doing great things. Treat her accordingly! Let someone, a seasoned veteran, show her how things are done on the beat, and you’ll have an outstanding police officer in the making. Stop hazing her! She doesn’t deserve it, and it doesn’t help her become better at all, to the contrary.”

Bogo looked at Mastiff, still not knowing what to say. In all his years as a police officer, he had never faced a situation quite like this one. This wasn’t just any mammal who had told him all this. This was Major Adimar Mastiff, one of the most seasoned veterans the ZPD had to offer, highly decorated, held in the highest esteem imaginable. He had already been a veteran when Bogo had still not known how to lace his boots correctly (not that he ever wore some). In every other case, if any other mammal had told him something similar, Bogo would have dismissed the criticism as pointless. But when Adimar Mastiff told you something like that, you were well advised to stop and listen to what he had to say.

“So what do you suggest?” Bogo finally asked.

Mastiff shrugged. “You can talk to Delgato, take back your stupid suggestion, let him treat Hopps as a normal workmate. But right now, I’m not sure that will work all that well. Right now, there’s just so much animosity between the two of them. Maybe the only way to fix this right now is to make them team up with different partners. I’m afraid they dislike each other so much at this point, that forcing them to still work together will only create more bad blood.”

Bogo nodded. “Thanks for telling me.”

Mastiff smiled. “Anytime, Adrian.” With that, he turned around and left the office.

Bogo leant back in his chair, thinking.

Did Mastiff have a point?

It had never occurred to Bogo that his predecessor might have been incompetent. He had never seen any of the things Mastiff mentioned, but that wasn’t saying much. Mastiff had been perfectly right - even Bogo himself had to admit that Ironhide had always handled him with kid gloves. Apart from the episode where he had been forced to do parking duty after having been awarded the Medal of Honor, Bogo had always received everything he had wanted, everything he had hoped for. If Mastiff was to be believed, nobody had ever gotten quite the same treatment. Not even remotely.

Not that Bogo would have been able to tell. He had never cared much for inner-precinct gossip, and he certainly had never cared much for the opinions of others in regards to other mammals. So if other officers had disliked Ironhide, he would certainly have been the last to know, simply because nobody would have told him.

Before he had become Chief, most officers at Precinct One had already Bogo pegged as a loner. He still had few friends among his workmates - Mastiff was virtually the only one, and Bogo still couldn’t shake the feeling that their relationship was more due to Mastiff’s insistence than due to any effort of his. Especially after having lost Meredith, he tended to protect his privacy, so the number of officers that had really gotten to know him as a mammal over the years was insignificant. And after having become Chief, he had, in the eyes of his subordinates, probably become even more aloof.

And if Bogo was honest with himself, this was just the way he wanted it to be.

Should he have listened more? What would it have taught him? Would he behave any differently now?

With a start, he realized that he had little more than half an hour left to read all the reports from the night shift. He took the first file immediately, then dropped it again. Reading in a hurry was always a bad idea, and if he was honest with himself, he wasn’t in the mood to read about scuffles among drunk mammals and petty pickpockets arrested for having stolen a few bucks.

Instead, he got up and left his office.

A few steps to the left of his office, a row of pictures, unofficially known as the “Wall of Fame,” showed all the Chiefs of Precinct One since its inception. Standing a few paces in front of the gallery, he looked at the faces. His particular concern were the two rightmost pictures, showing one female jaguar and one male rhinoceros. Both mammals were smiling, showing their teeth, which in the case of the jaguar, was much more impressive.

Bogo had never gotten to know Barbara Kendrick - she had died almost one year before he had become a police officer -, but her reputation had been so extraordinary that her name had been about the first one he had heard when joining Precinct One. A lot of the older officers had been bemoaning the fact that she hadn’t been the Chief anymore, that death had claimed her much too early. Her successor, Michael Ironhide, had never been quite as popular. Even Bogo himself had to admit that he had never liked him all that much. There had always been something quite unscrupulous about the rhino that had unnerved a lot of mammals. He had been known for having a short temper, for demanding the impossible, for treating you with respect only if you had excelled.

Nobody had shed a tear when he had stepped down. Rumor had it that some officers had even celebrated his retirement.

Bogo couldn’t shake the feeling that after Kendrick’s untimely death, elation had been in really short supply. Crying had probably been the much more common reaction.

_What will they say when I step down? Will they cry? Will they celebrate?_

Suddenly he heard someone clear his throat. He turned around to see his orderly, Sergeant Higgins. “Good morning, Chief,” the hippo said.

“Morning, Higgins.” Bogo looked back at the gallery of pictures.

“Uh, Chief, is something the matter?” Higgins’s voice sounded quite cautious.

“Did you like Ironhide much?” Bogo asked, then he paused.

_Why am I asking this?_

“Uh, erm, well.” Higgins was audibly hesitating.

Bogo was puzzled for a moment, but suddenly he understood.

Mouthing off about superiors, even those who had long since quit the job, was considered to be one of the ultimate no-nos in every police station. It was quite obvious that Higgins would have loved to say something about Ironhide, probably something not quite flattering, but he felt reluctant to do it. “Permission to speak freely, Higgins,” Bogo said quickly.

Higgins took a deep breath. “Frankly, Chief, I hated him. I hated the mere sight of him.”

_Alright, that would qualify as mouthing off._ “And why is that?”

“He was just the worst Chief you can possibly imagine. At one point, he simply told me that he didn’t like me. But he never told me why. And I don’t think I have ever given him a reason to dislike me. But that was just the way he was. I think he treated most officers in pretty much the same manner.”

“Do you think he favored me?”

Higgins snorted. “Honestly? You were about the only mammal at Precinct One who was in his good graces.”

“Ah. Figures.”

“What do you mean?”

Bogo shrugged. “I was told that I was his first pick as a possible successor.”

“Of course you were.” He looked up at Bogo. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know.”

“Until today, I didn’t, no.” Bogo took a deep breath. “Do you hate me as well?”

Higgins hesitated visibly. “Sir?”

“I’d like to hear your candid opinion, Higgins. Do you hate me?”

“Er, no, sir, I don’t.” Higgins straightened himself. “Although there are moments when I think that you are indeed a worthy successor of Ironhide.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Higgins hesitated again, then he visibly pulled himself together. “I mean, Chief, that you’d be well advised to not treat everybody as harshly as Ironhide did. When you became the Chief, you … hardened.”

“Hardened?”

“I don’t know how else to call it. You just became hard. You’ve never come across as the most sociable mammal, but …” Higgins paused. “Sorry, sir, that was inconsiderate. My apologies.”

Bogo turned towards Higgins. “I have asked for your candid opinion, Higgins, and I’m prepared to hear it, even if I may not like it very much. So please, let me hear it!”

Higgins straightened himself. “Alright. You’ve always been the epitome of a tough guy, but ever since you became the Chief, it became worse. Toughness seems to be your mantra. You’re not nearly as bad as Ironhide was, years gone by, but in my opinion, you’d be well advised to cut your officers some slack every now and then. Keeping them on a tight leash can only take you so far, Chief. Treat them less harshly, and maybe they won’t fear you so much.”

“Some officers fear me?”

Higgins nodded. “Some of the younger officers are quite intimidated by you, yes, sir.”

“I see. What do you think, does harassment fall into the category of things I shouldn’t do?”

“Of course it does! Harassment is ugly! Always was, always will be! I never understood why some officers thought it would be necessary to break rookies in by harassing them. And I have always tried to avoid harassing others myself.” He paused. “Is that why Hopps was in such a bad mood yesterday?”

Bogo sighed. “What do you think of her?”

“I think she can be a worthy addition to every precinct’s roster.”

“You think she earned the Medal of Honor?”

“Oh yes, she did. What she did, most officers wouldn’t have been able to do. It was an outstanding achievement, and she had no support from us whatsoever. She’s a good cop, and with the right tutelage, she can only become better.”

Bogo nodded. Higgins had basically told him exactly the same thing Mastiff had told him before. Maybe it really was time to start doing things differently. “Right. Thank you, Higgins, for your candid words. You wanted to talk about roll call?”

“Uh, yes, sir. Anything I should know about?”

Bogo made an inviting gesture. “Step into my office, and I’ll fill you in.”

* * *

**As a rule, I don’t waste much thought on the titles for my chapters, but there was a very good reason why I gave this story arc the title “The Gauntlet.”**

**But just whose gauntlet are we talking about now? Judy’s? Delgato’s? Or even Bogo’s?**

**In case you can’t tell yet, I have great plans for Benjamin Clawhauser, and they will come to fruition in “Hammer to Fall.” Then again, I have great plans for so many mammals …**

**Just so you know, the name “Kendrick” purportedly originates from the welsh word “Cynwrig” which translates to “greatest champion.” A fitting name for the best Chief in the history of Zootopia, don’t you agree?**

**In case you wanna know who Meredith was, I will tell the story of her and Bogo in the upcoming story, “Nightmare.”**

**The Purple Shield is awarded to officers who are injured in the line of duty. If they’re killed, it’s awarded posthumously. And the Combat Cross is the second-highest award that can be bestowed upon a police officer.**

**For your information, in my hometown, parking duty is indeed performed in its entirety by the city itself. They employ several people who do nothing but look for parking violations. Most cities in Germany follow similar lines. I don’t know how things are in other countries, but I guess they aren’t all that different. Parking duty just takes a lot of manpower the police forces usually don’t have, and since the cities receive the parking fines, they are the ones responsible. In my version of Zootopia, things are the same.**

**And Judy certainly didn’t stop at 201 tickets on her first day, even with having to chase Nick down. 292 sounded like a nice, solid number.**

**Now for the obligatory quotes:**

**I hid one line from the song “You Can’t Bring Me Down” by Suicidal Tendencies in this chapter. Have fun finding it!**

**Another quote was taken out of the movie “The American President.”**

**The movie “Stripes” gave me another quote to use in this chapter.**

**Yet another quote can be found in the song “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life” by Monty Python. That one should be easy to find.**

**And there’s an obvious Shakespeare reference in here, too.**

**That’s it for the moment! Stay tuned for more mayhem! Thanks for reading, and every comment is much appreciated!**

**Take care!**

**Jens “TheCatweazle” Ostendorf**


	6. The Gauntlet V - Unexpected

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

**Well, after having published four chapters in less than eight hours, things are bound to slow down again. I still have a few old chapters up my sleeve, and I will present them to you shortly, but there also are a few chapters I want to publish soon that I haven’t written yet.**

**Thanks to everyone for reading this, and I want to thank niraD, The Wildehopps Protection Agency (WHPA), SaberGatomon, WildeHopps, GhostWolf88, and LordVincent14, for sending their comments! Always appreciated, always cherished! You really make my day(s)!**

**I probably should have taken a different, more difficult quote for you to find the last time around - this one obviously was just way too easy! GhostWolf88, niraD, and WildeHopps found it in basically no time at all. It was, of course, the line “What can I say except you’re welcome?” sung by Maui (voiced by Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson) in the Disney movie “Moana” by Ron Clements and John Musker, published by Disney in 2016.**

**The other quotes I hid in here remain elusive at the moment, and I’m not all that surprised about that, given how little time has passed.**

* * *

Chapter Six

** The Gauntlet V - Unexpected  
**

_This will be the day we’ve waited for. This will be the day we open up the door._

Jeff Williams feat. Casey Lee Williams: “This Will Be The Day” (Written by Jeff Williams, from the album “RWBY Volume 1 Soundtrack,” Rooster Teeth Productions, 2013)

* * *

**In Front of the Grand Pangolin Arms Apartment Building, Furrari 330 GTS Spider, Savanna Central, Zootopia**

The car was his everything. He had bought it on a whim for next to nothing, an old clunker, a wreck even, more than forty years old, with more than 300,000 miles on the odometer. The engine had been shot, the chassis a bucketful of rust and cracks, the running gear a terrible mess. Today, after countless hours of repairing and tinkering, done mostly by himself, after having invested a huge amount of money, the Furrari Spider looked as good as new. Its engine ran smooth as silk, its running gear was in mint condition, not a speck of rust or even dust marred its looks. It was his pride and joy.

On any normal day, sitting in the car alone was enough to put a smile on Frederick Delgato’s face.

This morning, it didn’t even register with him.

For two nights in a row, he had barely slept at all. The last evening in particular had been an outright disaster. Having received a verbal tongue-lashing by no other than Adimar Mastiff had shaken him to the core.

He had gone to The Watering Hole to relax, to unwind, to wash away the stress of several days of hard work.

He had left it feeling more wound-up than ever.

When had things gotten that out of paw?

When Bogo had asked him to harass Hopps.

And everything that had happened afterwards had been a huge pain in the butt.

Contrary to him, it seemed that Hopps had enjoyed the last evening immensely. She had happily chatted away with their coworkers; at one point she had even started cracking crack silly jokes. When being asked, she had willingly related tales of her past, of her home, of her time at the ZPA - her impersonation of Major Friedkin had been absolutely spot-on -, of her first days of duty. Of the Missing Mammals and Savage Predators cases.

The only thing she hadn’t mentioned at all was him.

It was as if to her, the last two days had never taken place.

The whole evening, she had cast no further look at him. She had, for all intents and purposes, ignored his presence completely.

And it had come as a huge surprise to Delgato when he had realized that her attitude towards him had been causing an almost physical pain.

It seemed like she was a really nice girl, friendly, modest, supportive, funny. They should have gotten along splendidly.

She was hating him.

And he couldn’t blame her. It was his fault, and Bogo’s.

Or was it?

After having returned home - he had been the first one to leave, much earlier than usual, probably much earlier than everyone else -, he had spent the night tossing and turning in his bed, waiting for sleep, finding none. He had been thinking about the situation, about Hopps, about himself, about the order Bogo had given him.

It hadn’t been an order; Bogo had made this abundantly clear. But he had treated it as such. Of course he had. Contradicting his superior officer wasn’t even in his vocabulary. He just followed orders, plain and simple. To him, Bogo’s word was the law.

Because he naturally assumed that, as far as official matters were concerned, the cape buffalo was right.

But was he? Had he been right when it came to Hopps?

Had she displayed any of the things Bogo had mentioned? Any “better-than-thou” attitude? Any reckless behavior? Any disrespect towards Delgato as her superior officer? Any cluelessness when it came to the situations they had been facing?

The answer, of course, was a resounding No.

At one point during the night, he had realized with a start that he had taken a perfectly wrong approach, pretty much from the very first moment he had joined forces with Hopps. He hadn’t tested her for any of the things Bogo had feared, he had merely assumed that she was guilty of all the mistakes and oversights rookies are prone to make by default. He had approached her with a colossal amount of sheer, unadulterated prejudice.

He should have known better. He should have known _much_ better.

Mastiff had been perfectly right. Delgato hadn’t listened with his heart. He hadn’t thought with his heart. He had given Hopps no chance to prove herself before passing his verdict on her. In his mind, the verdict on her had already been passed before she had been assigned to become his partner.

That wasn’t Bogo fault.

It was his.

Their coworkers had watched and listened. They had seen Hopps excel at everything she had done. As far as they were concerned, she had been put to the test already, and she had succeeded with distinction. That was why they had started treating her as a true equal. They had treated her as if she already was “one of the guys,” despite the fact that she had so little experience under her belt.

Even Mastiff had treated her with respect and courtesy. And the old wolf was notoriously hard to please.

The only guy who hadn’t even considered the possibility that Hopps might be worthy of being treated with respect had been Delgato himself.

And he hated himself for it.

That was why he was sitting in his car now, watching the entrance of the Grand Pangolin Arms apartment building, the place where Hopps lived. He had already watched her return from her morning run, and it had been obvious that she had been in a great mood. There was a spring in her step that she’d been lacking the day before. She had smiled when a passer-by had approached her, and they had talked for several minutes in a rather animated fashion, with Hopps smiling or even grinning the whole time. The last evening seemed to have worked wonders, as far was her inner equilibrium was concerned.

Now he was waiting for her to leave the building again.

He needed to talk to her.

* * *

**Grand Pangolin Arms Apartment Building, Top Floor, Apartment 514, Savanna Central, Zootopia**

“_And we’ll never be royals. It don’t run in our blood. That kind of luxe just ain’t for us. We crave a different kind of buzz_.”

Judy knew she wasn’t the greatest of singers, mostly because of lack of practice, but sometimes, when she was in an excellent mood, the songs just poured out of her.

“_Let me be your ruler. You can call me Queen Bee. And baby, I’ll rule, I’ll rule, I’ll rule, I’ll rule. Let me live that fantasy_.”

A short banging against the wall, along with a muffled “_Oy, bunny, pipe down, will ya?_” reminded her that she wasn’t alone in the building.

One of the downsides of living in the glamorous Grand Pangolin Arms.

“Sorry, guys!” she said softly, knowing that Bucky and Pronk Oryx-Antlerson, her next-door neighbors, would be able to hear her anyway.

“_Just shut it already!_”

With a smile, he gave herself one last check-up in the mirror, grabbed her keys and left the room.

What a difference a day makes!

Yesterday, she’d been dead on her paws. Being forced to work with someone who’d treated her like she was the worst scum of the earth had been exhausting, and even her brother’s words of comfort had offered her little, had done nothing to ease her mind.

But after having met her workmates at The Watering Hole, her mood had improved massively.

So they didn’t all think she was a waste of time and space. Unlike a certain lion she knew.

What a comforting feeling!

Even the thought that she would have to team up with Delgato again didn’t bother her all that much. So he didn’t like her … So what? Even Adimar Mastiff had treated her in a friendly manner. And he was a Major and Delgato just a Sergeant.

On top of that, when Delgato had left The Watering Hole, she had been under the distinct impression that their workmates hadn’t been too well-disposed towards him. Which had come as a surprise to her. Up until that point, she hadn’t noticed any signs of Delgato being unpopular among their peers. After all, Francine had welcomed him in a most friendly manner when they had met during the protest rally.

When she had asked Clawhauser about it, he had made a dismissive gesture, assuring her that everything was fine.

Yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling that both the lack of friendly tones towards Delgato and his treatment of her were somehow connected. All clues led to this as the only logical conclusion.

For a few seconds, she had been tempted to confront Delgato directly, but had dismissed the idea as ludicrous. It was highly unlikely that he would be willing to explain their workmates’ behavior, especially if her instincts were right and the facts really were connected.

Besides, he was her superior officer. And you don’t ask a superior officer about stuff like that.

No, it was probably best to still treat him as if he wasn’t there. It had worked quite well the day before, it would work quite well today.

Even if it made for painfully boring duty hours.

When she left the building, she noticed that the red sports car - a Furrari, unless she was very much mistaken -, was still standing at the same spot it had stood before, across the street, parked in front of the hardware store. The occupant was completely unrecognizable through the windshield.

And Judy found herself feeling for the tranq gun she wasn’t wearing at the moment.

She didn’t know why, but something about the car made her feel uneasy.

Her uneasiness increased exponentially when the car’s door was suddenly opened.

And a huge lion wearing a long, black coat was emerging.

Suddenly she was really longing for her tranq gun.

With long, fast strides, the lion started walking towards her. It was only when he had crossed the street that she finally recognized the mammal.

“Oh, it’s you,” she said, then straightened herself. “I mean, good morning, Sergeant, sir.”

Delgato merely looked down at her, silent, unmoving.

Threatening.

_Does he want to attack me? He wouldn’t dare!_

After almost one minute of silence, Delgato said simply: “Come with me, Hopps.” His voice was barely more than a whisper.

* * *

**ZPD Precinct One Headquarters, Parking Lot, Furrari 330 GTS Spider, City Center, Zootopia**

They had driven to Precinct One HQ in silence. Delgato had been concentrating on driving through the rush hour madness that Zootopia offered at this time of day, while at the same time trying his hardest to figure out what to say to her.

He had gotten her to be alone with him. Now for the tough part.

Killing the engine, he finally turned towards Hopps.

And almost wished he hadn’t.

He had never taken anyone along for the ride to their workplace before, much less a mammal as small as Hopps. So of course he didn’t own a booster seat suited to someone like her. He had simply covered her seat in several folded-up blankets to allow for her to sit high enough so the safety belt wasn’t choking her. It hadn’t been an ideal solution, and it showed. Hopps was visibly struggling with the setup which obviously was quite uncomfortable for her. Seeing that she wasn’t able to do it on her own, he undid her safety belt and leant back in his seat, turning his head away, staring straight ahead.

“Uh, sir, is something the matter?” Hopps finally asked after almost two minutes of the most awkward silence he could ever have imagined.

Delgato sighed.

_How in the name of all that’s holy did I get into this mess?_

“Slept well, Hopps?”

_O! M! Goodness! You’re such a moron!_

He could literally hear Hopps raise an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you made me enter your car just to ask me how my night has been, sir.”

Delgato snorted. “Of course not. I was merely … forget it!” He sighed again. “When you came here on Monday, I was watching you enter the building.”

“So?”

“I was talking to Bogo while I did.” He waited for her to respond to that, but she didn’t, so he plowed on. “We were talking about you.”

“So?” she said again.

_Why does this have to be so darn hard? Why does _she_ have to make this so darn hard?_

“Let me guess, sir” Hopps said after yet another extended period of silence, “you were talking about just how useless I am as a police officer, right?” Her voice was oozing sarcasm, unexpectedly so. So far, he hadn’t pegged her as an overly sarcastic mammal.

Delgato tried to pull himself together. “No, we were not. We were talking about how you have exceeded everyone’s expectations.”

That audibly caught Hopps by surprise. “You were?”

“Indeed. You’ve done the impossible. You have succeeded where every other officer has failed. You received the Medal of Honor, and as far as both Bogo and I are concerned, you earned it.”

“Then why …”

Delgato finally turned towards her again. “Please, Hopps, just let me explain!” Hopps fell silent again.

Delgato cleared his throat. “You have succeeded. Still, you are a rookie. You have just a few month’s worth of experience under your belt, you’re still quite green when it comes to working on the beat. You still have a lot to learn.”

“I know,” Hopps said quietly.

“Of course you do. You are very good, for a rookie. Still, there’s a lot of work that needs to be done before you can call yourself a seasoned veteran.

“So Bogo asked me to take you under my proverbial wings.”

Delgato straightened himself. Now for the uncomfortable part.

“He also told me to put you to the test. He wanted to know if you were truly worthy of wearing the shield, of the Medal of Honor you received. So he asked me to … well, let’s not mince words here.” He closed his eyes and said very rapidly: “He asked me to put you to the hardest test you can think of. He asked me to subject you to the worst harassment _I_ could think of. To use his own words, he asked me to show you what you’re in for, preferably in the worst possible way.”

To his astonishment, Hopps seemed to take this in stride. “I see,” she merely said.

“I don’t think you do.” Delgato looked through the windshield again. “He told me to subject you to harassment, but he gave me free reign when it comes to the details. He shouldn’t have.”

“What do you mean?”

“He should never have given me free reign. Because when you do, the outcome is always ugly.

“It was Bogo’s idea, but I made it mine. It was me who subjected you to all the abuse, to all the ill-treatment. That one isn’t on Bogo. It is on me.

“I made the decision to berate you after you had done what I hadn’t been able to do. You caught the drug traffickers, not me. I would never have been able to catch up with them, much less catch them. I should have sung your praises. But all I did was shout you down.

“I should have treated you with respect. But I treated you like a pile of dirt. That one’s on me. Not on Bogo.

“Everything you did over the course of the last few days was absolutely flawless. You performed much better than I could ever have done. When I was your age, I was an idiot, absolutely useless as a cop. You got off the starting blocks and pretty much excelled at everything you did. If that isn’t worthy of my respect, I don’t know what is. Seems like I still am an idiot.”

He took a deep breath. “Hopps, I want to apologize for the way I treated you over the course of the last two days. I should never have done so, and I’m deeply ashamed that I did.

“I didn’t look at who you are, at what you can do. I merely assumed you were a rookie and therefore had to be taught a lesson, and I tried to teach you that lesson in the worst possible way. Maybe I should have put you to the test, but I should never have subjected you to the kind of harassment I dished out. That was ugly, it was unnecessary, and I’m deeply sorry that I did this to you.”

He took off his seat belt and opened the car door. “I’ll ask Bogo to assign you a new partner. I’m not worthy to be yours. He should team you up with James or Francine. They’ll treat you with the respect I denied you.”

He had already almost left the car when he heard Hopps shout: “Sergeant, wait!”

He fell back into the seat with a sigh. “What is it, Hopps?”

When he looked at her, he was surprised to see that her face didn’t show the usual loathing she had put on display ever since he had started mistreating her.

Was that … _compassion_?

“If you were under orders, then why …” Hopps began.

“It wasn’t an order,” he interrupted her harshly. “He can’t have given me that order. It was a mere suggestion. Had he given that order, he would have made himself vulnerable to disciplinary complaints. You can’t order harassment! It’s against every law in existence.” He made a pause. “He merely suggested it, and I agreed to it. And that was the point I made it my own. That’s why it’s not Bogo’s fault.”

“I disagree,” Hopps said calmly.

It took a few seconds for Delgato to truly realize what she had said. “You do … _what_?”

Hopps shrugged. “Bogo’s the Chief. If he asks you to do something, does it make a difference to you if it’s an order or not?”

Delgato snorted. “It should have made a difference.”

He sighed, leant back in his seat and closed his eyes. “You know, I’ve often been accused of following orders too blindly. ‘Start using your common sense,’ one of my instructors at the Academy told me. If someone gives me an order, I never question it, I just follow it. And even if it’s a mere suggestion, I still follow it. I still see it through to the very, and inevitably bitter end.

“I told you that Bogo and I had a little one-to-one after you had already left for home on Monday. He asked me about your performance, your attitude towards me, your attitude towards the job in particular. When I told him that I was unable to name a single flaw, and how hard it had been for me to keep the façade of the bully, he offered me to reassign you to a different officer. But I refused, telling him that I would see it through to the end.

“Do you see now why Bogo’s not at fault here? No, I am to blame. I’m the only one to blame. Regardless of what Bogo told me, I should have used my common sense. I should have realized that harassing you was perfectly stupid. But I refused to even think about it. I just did it.

“I never really thought about whether the stuff I was told to do was right or not. That has always been the case, and my instructors at the Academy were quick to find that one out. They gave me all kinds of silly orders, most of which were completely pointless, and I just followed them to the letter. Made for some really bad grades. Hadn’t it been for my skills at paw-to-paw combat, I would never have graduated. I _should_ never have graduated. But I made it, barely. My final grades were so abysmal, they didn’t assign me to Precinct One, like I had hoped. No, sir! I was assigned to Precinct Five, Tundratown. And I can’t stand the cold! Put me in Savanna Central, maybe even Sahara Square, I’m a happy camper. Put me in a place that’s cold or wet, I’m absolutely miserable. So I worked my ass off to make it to Precinct One, and I managed.

“But it seems like I still haven’t learned my lesson. I’m still making the very same mistakes I did back at the Academy.” He sighed again. “It took an old wolf to give me a wake-up call I should have gotten ages ago.”

“Mastiff talked to you?”

“He did. He told me to finally start thinking with both my heart and my brain.”

“Sounds like sage advice.”

“It is. This is why I’m going to Bogo now to ask him to give you a new partner. I’m not the right guy to team up with you. Not anymore.”

“Why?”

He opened his eyes again to look at Hopps, frowning. “What do you mean, why? Because I can’t work with you any longer. You hate me, but that’s fine, because I was a horrible partner, and I hurt you. And you can walk away …” he broke off.

The bunny was actually smiling at him.

_What the heck …?_

“You know,” Hopps said, “it’s funny you should say that, because that’s my line.”

“Huh?”

The smile faded. “After the first press conference, after I had shot my mouth, accusing all predators of being savages _in potentia_, Nick Wilde was furious at me, and rightly so, and he told me so in no uncertain terms. But after I finally found out why predators had turned savage, I knew that I needed his help. So I went back to Zootopia and looked for him. And I found him. But of course he was still cross with me. So I apologized to him, and if I remember correctly, I used almost the exact same words you just told me. I told him that after we’re done, he could hate me, and that it would be fine, because I had been a horrible friend and had hurt him. And he could walk away, knowing that he had been right all along.”

“Right about what?”

Hopps shrugged. “That I’m really just a dumb bunny.”

Hopps made a short pause, probably to let that sink in. “Nick forgave me, and I’d given him no reason to. I had treated him like the worst jerk, the worst bully. He had never deserved such a treatment. I had simply proven that I was little more than a naïve little hick, a prejudiced jerk who had blundered along in search for the missing otter. I couldn’t have found him without his help. But I still refused to look at Nick as a simple, hard-working mammal who deserved my unconditional trust. All I saw was a fox, and foxes are shifty and untrustworthy. Still, he forgave me when I finally came around, seeing the error of my ways. He even forgave me for almost having used fox repellant on him!

“That’s why I try so hard to make sure he can become a police officer. He deserves this chance, and if I can help him along the way, I’ll do it, by any means necessary. And if that means I need to train him, I will. It’s the least I can do, seeing how I treated him before.” She shrugged. “Besides, I need to get used to having a fox around me all the time, seeing that we want to be partners after he graduates.”

Delgato just stared at her, incredulity etched on his face. After a few seconds of silence, Hopps continued. “Have you ever been to Bunnyburrow?”

“Not that I recall.”

“Well, the place is named Bunnyburrow for a reason. Bunnies are in the vast majority. There are a few families of sheep, a few horses, a few donkeys, several other herbivores, and even a few predators. But for every predator living in Bunnyburrow, we have almost 1000 bunnies. The first day I walked into the ZPA, I saw more predators than I had ever even heard of before. And when I moved to Zootopia, it was even worse, much worse. So many predators in one spot, all the fangs and claws …” She shook her head. “I wasn’t used to this. So of course I was worried. I shouldn’t have been. We’re all civilized mammals, and no predator, no matter how big he is or how ferocious he looks, can ever be a threat to me. Contrary of what the naïve little hick thought, Predators aren’t monsters. A sheep tried to tear down Zootopia! Who’s the monster now?”

She made another pause. “When I learned that I was to team up with a lion, I was happy. Best way to overcome my fears and prejudices! If I can work with a guy as huge and intimidating as a lion, I need to fear no predator anymore.” After yet another pause, she added softly: “You have some pretty impressive fangs and claws, sir.”

“I usually make it a point to not show them,” Delgato said just as softly.

“No, it’s okay. I need to get used to this. You don’t need to hold back. Nick doesn’t. I told him not to. I have treated him bad enough as it is.”

Suddenly she reached out and put her tiny paw on his massive arm.

“I acted like a major jerk towards Nick, yet he forgave me. What does it say about me if I don’t forgive you now?”

Delgato suddenly realized that a quite peculiar lump was forming in his throat.

“You forgive me?” he croaked out.

“I would still be a major jerk if I didn’t. You harassed me, but you apologized. I accept the apology, and I forgive you. You’re not a jerk. You had the wrong ideas, but like they say, we all make mistakes.” She took a deep breath. “And if you still want me to be your partner, I’d be honored, sir.”

Delgato stared down at her, trying his hardest to get to grips with what he had just heard.

Never, not in a million years, would he have anticipated such a reaction.

He had been certain that she’d jump at the opportunity to get rid of him.

She was doing the exact opposite.

_She’s a far better mammal than I could ever be!_

He straightened himself. “_I’d_ be honored if you’d still want to work together with me.”

She beamed at him. “Yes, I want to, sir!”

Delgato shook his head. “Don’t ‘sir’ me, Hopps. I don’t deserve it. My name’s Frederick. Most guys at work call me Freddie.”

“And everybody calls me Judy.”

* * *

**ZPD Precinct One Headquarters, Office of the Chief of Police, City Center, Zootopia**

_This is a very weird day!_

As Chief of Police, Adrian Bogo was used to issuing orders, and he was also used to seeing these orders being carried out without compunction or hesitation. The number of times when someone had outright refused to carry out their order was very small. Most of his subordinates knew better than to contradict the Chief.

Now he was staring at a mammal standing in front of his desk with folded arms and grim features. A mammal who had not only voiced his refusal to carry out a given order, but had also proceeded to give him a piece of his mind.

And this piece of mind looked rather ugly.

“Care to repeat that, Fangmeyer?” Bogo said slowly, accentuating every syllable.

“With pleasure,” Fangmeyer snarled. “You want me to team up with Hopps so that I can finish the job Freddie started? No dice, Bogo!”

It was, Bogo thought, probably the first time that James Fangmeyer didn’t even acknowledge his rank.

Fangmeyer continued: “Harassing Hopps is the last thing on my mind, and you’ll run into a bunch of problems if you try to make me do it. She doesn’t deserve this kind of treatment. Nor does Freddie, come to think of it. You’re just putting the fact that he would never contradict you to bad use. He’s the kind of guy who walks into his own doom without question, just because you told him to. He never grew the balls needed to refuse a silly, illegal, or even deadly order. _I_ have this set of balls, and that’s why I say: Forget it, Bogo! You can order me around all you want, I still won’t do it.” He made a pause. “And should you want me to do parking duty because of this, hell, I’ll even do _that_! But I won’t harass Hopps. Not in this lifetime, not in the next one.”

Bogo just stared at him for a few seconds. Never, not in his wildest dreams, had he imagined that one of his most faithful subordinates would ever dare to say something like that to his face.

Mastiff had told him that all officers who’d been at The Watering Hole were sharing his sentiments. Nothing could have made this more clearly than Fangmeyer’s reaction.

_Seems like I really have a problem._

Trying his hardest to sound nonchalant, he finally said: “Please remind me, Detective Fangmeyer, when did I order you to harass Hopps?”

And just like that, the grimness on Fangmeyer’s features vanished, only to be replaced by puzzlement. “Uh, sir?”

_Ah, so he knows how to treat a superior officer!_

“I told you that I’m going to split the team of Hopps and Delgato apart. Hopps will team up with you, Delgato will team up with Grizzoli. And that’s all I told you.”

“But you gave Freddie the order to …”

“I gave him no order at all.”

Fangmeyer snorted. “Of course you didn’t! You merely told him to, knowing full well that it wouldn’t make a difference to Freddie.”

Bogo nodded. “I did.”

It was obvious that this caught Fangmeyer on the wrong paw. “Wait a second, you even admit to it?”

“Of course I do. A good police officer admits to his mistakes and awaits his just punishment.”

“So you agree it was a mistake?”

“I do. I shouldn’t have done it. It was a blatant misuse of power. This is why I’m merely telling you to team up with Hopps to show her the ropes the way you see fit.”

“Why not let Delgato do it?”

Bogo sighed. “Because Major Mastiff told me they are quite at odds with each other at the moment.”

“That’s the mother of all understatements! They hate each other!”

“So it would seem. And forcing them to team up again will probably only make it worse. No, I’ll split the team apart. It’s for the better.”

Fangmeyer nodded. “I agree, sir.”

“So, does your refusal still stand?”

“No, it doesn’t, sir. If you want me to, Chief, I’ll team up with Hopps, and do it gladly.”

“Excellent! Anything else? If not, you’re dismissed!”

Fangmeyer saluted. “Sir.” Turning around, he left the office.

He had hardly closed the door when Bogo sighed and leant back in his chair, closing his eyes.

_Is it really this bad? Was I really that misguided?_

_Am I really that bad a chief?_

* * *

**ZPD Precinct One Headquarters, Lobby, Receptionist’s Counter, City Center, Zootopia**

After having worked as ZPDs main dispatcher for more than a decade, Benjamin Clawhauser usually said that he’d seen it all. He had seen heroes and villains, petty thieves by the bucketful, civilians in desperate need of help, countless mammals in distress, several police officers in really bad shape - the lot.

But he had never expected to see this particular sight.

Judy Hopps and Frederick Delgato entered Precinct One together, engrossed in a rather animated conversation. Hopps was smiling, and even Delgato looked distinctly less grim as usual. When they parted ways - Delgato had to go to the locker room to get changed into his uniform, whereas Judy was already wearing hers -, Judy looked at Clawhauser and gave him a happy wave before walking towards the bullpen.

_What in the h-e-double hockey sticks …?_

_Maybe I should really ease off on the sweet stuff!_

Suddenly, his intercom came to live: “_Clawhauser, Bogo here! Do you copy?_”

Clawhauser pressed the button. “Yes?”

“_Has Sergeant Delgato arrived already?_”

“Uh, yeah, he just walked in.”

“_Please tell him I want to see him ASAP!_”

“Of course.” Clawhauser looked up to see Delgato, who had obviously heard the Chief mention his name, approaching the counter.

“Morning, Ben! Bogo wants to talk to me?” he asked with a smile.

“Uh, yeah, he did. As soon as possible.”

“Tell him I’m on my way.”

* * *

**ZPD Precinct One Headquarters, Office of the Chief of Police, City Center, Zootopia**

There was a soft knock to the door. “Enter!” Bogo shouted. The door opened to reveal Sergeant Delgato, still clad in his civvies. He entered the room without even looking at Bogo. He merely walked, or rather dragged his paws, towards the chair and more or less slumped into it, obviously not waiting for Bogo to allow for it.

He looked to be on his last legs. His face looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks, and there was something decidedly disheveled about his whole appearance.

Yet at the same time, a tiny smile seemed to play around the corners of his mouth.

“You wanted to see me, Chief,” he said without preamble.

For a second, Bogo wanted to give him a dressing-down for ignoring the proper etiquette, but after looking at the mess that was Delgato’s face, he couldn’t find the fortitude to do it. “I did,” he said instead.

“Why?”

Bogo couldn’t help frowning at this. Delgato, one of the more calm officers on his roster, was the epitome of someone displaying a “by-the-book,-or-else!” attitude when it came to the behavior towards superior officers. His current approach to things was so _not_ Delgato, it was outright disconcerting. “Well, I wanted to tell you that I decided to assign you a new partner.” He looked down at the duty roster lying on the table in front of him.

“Uh, no.”

His head shot up. “What did you say?”

Delgato just stared at him, a look of unmistakable defiance on his face. “Sorry, what I said was ‘no.’ Hopps is my partner, and she will not team up with anyone else but me.”

Bogo grunted. “What do you mean?”

“I think the words speak for themselves.” Delgato made a pause. “Isn’t it funny? Once you’ve established yourself as a seasoned police officer, once you’ve started climbing up the greasy pole, you tend to forget how you started. You tend to forget that you once were a rookie, too.”

“Maybe so. Your point being?”

Delgato straightened himself in the chair. “Have you ever heard the name Pamela Middendorff?”

“I may have. Worked at Precinct Five, didn’t she?”

“She sure did. She was my first partner on the force, when I had just left the ZPA with barely good enough grades to make it into the ZPD. I had so wanted to become an officer working at Precinct One, but unlike Hopps, I was far from having been valedictorian, so there was no chance in hell for me to join Precinct One. So I was assigned to Tundratown. And as you probably know, I hate the colder climes. Unlike Middendorff. She was a Kodiak bear from the Northern Regions, so she was quite used to the cold. I wasn’t. And the old girl was mocking me relentlessly for complaining about being cold all the time. She must have given me a thousand nicknames, all boiling down to the simple fact that I was a pampered city slicker who wasn’t tough enough for Tundratown’s environment. ‘Icicle’ was just one of the more harmless nicknames. Some guys at Precinct Five still call me Icicle whenever I meet them.”

“Uh, is there a point to this story?”

Delgato continued as if Bogo hadn’t spoken at all. “I don’t think Pam ever called me by my real name. She only did it once, and that was when I had finally received my reassignment to Precinct One, when I said goodbye to her.

“And how did I manage to make it here? Not on my own account, that’s for sure.

“No, I made it here because Pam showed me the ropes.

“She showed me what it was really like to be a police officer. She showed me what it truly meant to put your life on the line in the line of duty. She showed me the value of true partnership. She showed me where focus, dedication, and determination could get you. She formed me into the police officer I am today. If not for her, I wouldn’t be here today. Yes, she mocked me, but she never mistreated me. She was just a joker, but apart from that, she was the best teacher you can possibly imagine. She treated me with a respect I probably didn’t even deserve back then.”

He sighed. “And I can’t even thank her for that. She was killed in action two years ago. And the thought that I have never really said ‘thank you’ to her haunts me to this day. When I heard about her untimely death, I made a vow to myself to go on walking in her pawsteps. I made a vow to treat rookies the same way she treated me.”

He sighed again. “And along comes a tiny bunny who was everything I was not. Valedictorian of her class, recipient of the Medal of Honor, way better than I have been at her age, far superior to me in almost every aspect, regardless of size.

“And what did I do? Did I treat her like Pam treated me? Did I show her the ropes, did I try and show her how a police officer’s supposed to work? Did I show her the respect she undoubtedly deserves? Did I lead by example?

“No, I didn’t. I harassed her. And right now, I’m deeply ashamed I did.”

He looked at Bogo, and to his surprise, there was not even a hint of resentment in the lion’s gaze. If anything, he looked sorrowful. “Yes, you told me to, but I didn’t do it because of that. No, I did it because I really am just a dumb lion.

“I ignored my own vow to myself. I never gave Hopps a chance. I never looked at what she was, at who she was, at what she had done, at what she was capable of. I merely harassed her.

“Some teacher I am!

“One hour ago, Chief, I would have accepted your reassignment without thinking twice. Finally I would have gotten rid of the bunny who was way better than I had ever been, the bunny I was secretly jealous of. I actually wanted to walk into your office this morning, Chief, to ask you to be reassigned. And I actually wanted to tell Hopps about it.

“So I drove to Hopps’s home this morning to talk to her. I told her why I had subjected her to harassment. I apologized for it, and I also told her that I would ask you to assign her a new partner.

“But then, the most unbelievable thing happened. You know what that is, Chief?”

Bogo found out at this point that his jaw had dropped, and he hastened to close his mouth again.

Obviously not having expected an answer, Delgato looked down at his paws and continued: “She didn’t jump up in joy upon hearing that she’d gotten rid of the cantankerous old lion, the guy who’d mistreated her from the get-go. No, she accepted my apology, and she forgave me. She forgave me for treating her like a pile of dirt.

“And she asked me if I was still willing to be her partner. She still wanted me to be the one to show her the ropes, to show her how things are done on the beat. She wanted to get used to being around a huge predator.”

He looked at Bogo again. “I should never have made your opinion my own, sir! It was my mistake, granted, but you should have held her in higher esteem than you did. It’s disgraceful! Hopps deserves better! She deserves to be treated with respect. Yes, she’s still a rookie, and she probably still has a lot to learn. She says so herself. But I had way more to learn that she had back then, yet I made it. Because I had an outstanding tutor.

“So I’m going to be her tutor. I’m going to show Hopps what it means to work on the beat. I’m going to show her that the way I treated her over the last two days is _not_ the proper way to treat a rookie. I’m going to show her the value of true partnership. I’m going to do for her what Sergeant Middendorff did for me.

“It’s what Hopps asked me to do, and if it really is what she wants, who am I to contradict her? She deserves better, and I’m going to treat her better.

“And nothing you can say or do right now is going to change anything about it, sir.”

With that, Delgato got up from the chair and walked towards the door.

And Bogo found out to his dismay that his jaw had dropped again.

It was only after Delgato had left the room without saying anything else, without waiting for having been dismissed, that Bogo found his voice again.

“This really is a VERY weird day!”

* * *

**ZPD Precinct One Headquarters, Briefing Room A aka “Bullpen,” City Center, Zootopia**

The first thing Bogo noticed after opening the door was a distinct lack of noise. Usually, when he entered the bullpen, most officers banged their paws/hooves on the tables, shouting a rhythmic chant. It was an old ritual that predated him by several decades, yet everyone seemed to want to hold on to it, despite the fact that it was just plain dumb. Today, a select few officers still did it, but most other mammals in the room simply sat there in silence. Everyone was staring at him.

And the looks those silent mammals gave him weren’t exactly friendly.

Adimar Mastiff had told him that a lot of officers were incensed at the fact that he had told Delgato to mistreat Hopps. Now Bogo found out that the old wolf hadn’t exaggerated.

As his gaze swept the room, he noticed other peculiarities. For one, Mastiff was there, too, which was highly uncommon. Most officers working at Homicide Squad didn’t attend roll call, because they didn’t need to - assignments were given out by Mastiff, not by Bogo. The squad was, for all intents and purposes, running completely autarchic.

Another thing he did notice was that Hopps and Delgato were sitting next to each other, like they had the day before. Delgato had changed into his uniform and still looked like having been dragged through the wilderness, but there still was that tiny smile playing around the corners of his mouth. Both he and Hopps were looking at him expectantly.

Just like every other officer in the room was looking at him expectantly.

He cleared his throat. “Alright, that’s enough!”

Surprisingly enough, the noise died down immediately. He usually needed to resort to more volume in his voice to restore peace and order.

Bogo put on his glasses and read from one of the pieces of paper he had brought with him. “With the election around the corner, there are no less than three party conventions taking place. The Democratic Party is holding a meeting in Savanna Central, the Republicans, too, and the Green Party is in session in the Rainforest District. Now, security will be dealt with by several private companies, but I was ordered by City Hall to tell you to keep a weather eye open for any disturbances, protestors and the likes. Not that I think anything will happen the security companies won’t be able to deal with, but you never know.

“Apart from that, there’s not much on the docket today, so … assignments.”

He noticed that every mammal in the room seemed to hold their breaths.

“Delgato, Hopps, Sahara Square. We received reports of several rambunctious kids defacing public buildings with graffiti. Find them, shut them down!”

“10-4, Chief,” Delgato simply said, getting up. He turned towards Hopps, raising his paw, holding it in front of her. “Ready to make the world a better place, Judy?”

With a smile, Hopps got up and gave the lion a paw bump. “I was born ready, Freddie.”

They walked towards the exit together, huge lion and tiny bunny, side by side. Bogo noticed that Delgato was looking in the general direction of Mastiff, who returned the gaze, smiling and nodding, before getting up himself and leaving the room along with Delgato and Hopps.

A room which was left in stunned silence. Everybody just stared at Bogo with looks of incredulity etched on their faces.

Bogo cleared his throat. “Alright, all other assignments remain the same. Dismissed!”

* * *

**Veggie Universe Restaurant, Sahara Square, Zootopia**

The African civet working behind the counter looked up at her latest customer with a frown. It wasn’t every day that a lion walked into a veggie diner. Most of his species were known for giving those a wide berth, despising the mere idea of dining exclusively on salads and fruit smoothies.

Yet he was a customer.

“Good afternoon, sir,” the civet said. “What may I do for you?”

“Good afternoon!” The lion nodded. “I’d like to have one medium Caesar salad, easy on the Parmesan cheese, and one tall carrot-apple-smoothie with a dash of basil, please.”

It was as if life within the restaurant itself was suspended for a few seconds as every mammal in there turned their heads towards the lion.

“What?” the lion said with a hint of impatience. “My partner’s a bunny, and I don’t want to make her wait. So may I ask you to, please, get a move on?”

* * *

**So, that about wraps it up for this story arc! Thanks to all of you for joining me on this joyride so far!**

**The song Judy sings is called “Royals” by Lorde. (Written by Joel Little and Ella Yelich-O’Connor, from the album “The Love Club EP,” Universal/Virgin, 2013) Her version’s great, but I like the one made by Pentatonix much better. It’s such a shame that Avi Kaplan decided to leave the group in the meantime. I mean, they’re still great, but Avi was just such a joy to listen to! I’d love to have such an awesome _basso profundo_ voice!**

**Judy would be a good ruler, don’t you agree? ;-)**

**Pamela Middendorff is named after the Russian zoologist Alexander von Middendorff. The man who taxed the Kodiak bear, Clinton Hart Merriam, named the mammal _Ursus arctos middendorffi_ in honor of Middendorff.**

**Now, the obligatory quotes:**

**There’s a tiny line from the movie “Smokey and the Bandit” in here, but while searching for it, I couldn’t help noticing it crops up in a lot of other movies. In other words, this should be pretty easy to find.**

**The title of a song by Dinah Washington pops up in here. That one should also be pretty easy.**

**Thanks for reading this chapter, and please, send me your comments! I would love to hear how you like the story so far!**

**Until then! Take care!**

**Jens “TheCatweazle” Ostendorf**


	7. My Hot Love

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

**After the more serious tone of the last few chapters, I wanted to lighten the mood with a bit of pure, unadulterated fun. This chapter once was part of the “Where There is Song” collection, and fortunately, there wasn’t all that much that needed doing.**

**As it was taken from that story collection, it is, of course, also based on a song. It’s called “Meine heiße Liebe” (My Hot Love), written by Daniel “Dän” Dickopf and performed by his a-capella group Wise Guys, published by The Record Company (EMI) on the album “Skandal” in 1999. Although the group disbanded in the meantime, I still enjoy listening to them (and singing the songs myself). Most of the lyrics are just outrageously funny.**

**Like the ones I’m using here.**

**I had the idea for this chapter while driving home in my car. It was one of those days where getting up in the morning alone sounded like a bad idea. I was dead tired, but I still had some twenty miles to go. And that’s when this song popped up in my mind.**

**Thank you, my faithful readers, for, well, faithful reading! ;-) Additional kudos go out to GhostWolf88, niraD, and The Wildehopps Protection Agency (WHPA) for sending their comments!**

* * *

Chapter Seven

** My Hot Love **

_I don’t know how to live through this hell. Woken up, I’m still locked in this shell._

Metallica: “Trapped Under Ice” (Lyrics by James Hetfield, Music by James Hetfield, Kirk Hammett, and Lars Ulrich, from the album “Ride the Lightning,” Megaforce, 1984)

* * *

**Premise**: A typical Monday morning at Precinct One. Nick joined the ZPD several years ago. Judy and Nick are NOT in a relationship, although Judy has fallen in love with Nick, but has yet to tell him …

* * *

**ZPD Precinct One Headquarters, Cafeteria, City Center, Zootopia**

Monday morning at the ZPD, Precinct One, meant, first and foremost, one thing:

Silence.

Nobody really knew why, but it just so happened that most officers of Precinct One were all but morning mammals. Without huge amounts of coffee, black tea or similar stimulants, most officers or civilian personnel were in a stupor. Conversations were very subdued, mostly down to whispers.

However, there were exceptions. One of which was just sipping her carrot smoothie slowly, savoring the taste.

After getting up at 5:30 in the morning, one solid hour of jogging and stretching, a quick shower and a wholesome breakfast, she felt more than ready for everything the day might throw in her path. Now she was sitting in the cafeteria of ZPD’s Precinct One, reading the local paper while enjoying her smoothie. She still had more than half an hour for herself before the morning briefing would take place.

Just a normal morning for Sergeant Judith L. Hopps, ZPD.

“You know what, Judy? You’re really disgusting.” Brian McHorn took a sip from his cup, the size of which would have allowed Judy to hide inside completely. “How can one mammal be so chipper in the morning?”

“Early to bed and early to rise, makes a mammal healthy, wealthy, and wise. Bunjamin Franklin.” Judy didn’t even look up from the newspaper she was perusing.

Frederick Delgato gave a groan. “I’ve yet to wake up, and she’s quotin’ dead philosophers already.”

“Franklin was a politician and inventor, not a philosopher.”

“And she’s also a smartass,” McHorn said. Delgato merely shrugged, as if saying: _What did you expect?_ _What else is new?_

Judy turned towards the rhino and opened her mouth for some (probably snarky) retort, but was interrupted by the door opening with its usual scratching.

And through the door walked the epitome of misery.

Nick Wilde was definitely _not_ a morning mammal.

Since this was a well-known fact, nobody really cared about his entrance.

Except for Judy. Her eyes followed him walking up to the automatic coffee machine standing on top of the counter in the back. _Even when he’s half asleep, he’s still adorable._

_Wait, did I really think this?_

_Get a grip, Judy!_

She would ever admit to thoughts like these in public.

She was well aware of the fact that a lot of their co-workers had a bet going, revolving around the question whether Nick and Judy would at one point start a relationship - at least that’s what Judy thought. The true question the bet was dealing with, however, simply was WHEN the two would fess up to each other. Everybody took it as a given that the two would start dating at one point.

And everybody was most eager to hide this fact from both Judy and Nick.

Summoning all her willpower, she averted her gaze from the red fox, turning her attention back to her newspaper, pretending to read while actually not taking in one word it said. Neither McHorn or Delgato had noticed her behavior, or if they had, they were smart enough to keep their comments to themselves.

It was at precisely that moment, when Judy tried her hardest to fight the blush threatening to engulf her, that Nick Wilde chose to speak up.

“You are the first one I think of in the morning.”

Her head whipped around. For one second she cursed her instinctive action, but then she realized that everyone in the cafeteria was staring at Nick.

He seemed to be completely oblivious of the fact. “You are the only one I’m giving my undivided love.” His voice filled the tiled hall with ease. He had obviously just pressed the appropriate button for his coffee of choice - black, with lots of sugar. Now his gaze was sweeping the room.

And everybody turned back to whatever they had been doing before Nick had spoken up.

Everybody except Judy.

She still stared at him when his gaze came to rest on her. He said in a tired voice: “You carry me through the day. I never told you before, but you do.”

Judy swallowed. He was looking at her, returning her gaze. Saying all these things about her! In public!

Her fur stood on end, her skin consumed by hellfire.

_What the heck is going on here?_

“I really love your black humor.”

_He loves my what?_

“You are just way too hot.”

Judy realized that others had started looking at Nick again, seeing that his gaze was still resting on Judy while saying this. Fighting a groan, she hoped that earth would open up and swallow her whole. _Maybe him, too._

_On second thought, maybe him first!_

With a last wheeze, the coffee machine indicated that Nick’s beverage of choice was ready. Nick turned around, picking up the Styrofoam cup containing his salvation. He put the cup to his lips, obviously not awake enough to realize that the scalding beverage still was way too hot to drink, and emptied almost half of its contents before putting the cup down again.

“My hot love. My cup of coffee.”

_WHAT???_

Judy could only stare at him, open-mouthed.

He emptied the cup and pressed the button for another cup of coffee. When turning around again, he realized that everyone was staring at him. “What? Have you never seen a mammal drink coffee before?”

* * *

**Yeah, my savior in the morning. My cup of coffee. Coffee really is my favorite beverage, and I’m able to drink lots and lots of it - fortunately, my blood pressure is on the low side of average.**

**The song's text is, for the most part, in Nick's monologue, a translation of the first verse and parts of the chorus. I left out a few things, but most of the lyrics are perfectly recognizable - if you know German, of course!**

**Thanks for reading! I'm eagerly awaiting your comments!**

**Take care!**

**Jens “TheCatweazle” Ostendorf**


	8. Straight and Narrow

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

**This actually is the last missing chapter from the original draft of “Wound!” With this one complete, I could finally start dealing with “Nightmare” again, but before I do that, there still is one more chapter from the “Where There is Song” collection I want to present you with.**

**Plus I’m actually toying with an idea that The Wildehopps Protection Agency (WHPA) gave me. I will probably deal with that one before setting my sights on “Nightmare” again. But if it takes too long to whip that chapter into shape, maybe I’ll put in on the shelf for a bit. Don’t worry, WHPA, I will write that chapter, probably quite soon. I really don’t know at this stage if it turns out to be easy to write. If it is, it’ll appear at some point during the next week, if not, it’ll take a few more weeks. But I will see it through, come hell or high water!**

**Anyway, this particular chapter here will serve as a proper introduction to a character I used in “Wound” and will rely on quite heavily in “Hammer.”**

**Thanks for reading this collection thus far, and shout-outs go to niraD, WildeHopps, GhostWolf88, FirnenOne, SaberGatomon, and The Wildehopps Protection Agency (WHPA) for sending comments on this story!**

* * *

Chapter Eight

** Straight and Narrow **

_A dark, black past is my most valued possession._

Megadeth: “Sweating Bullets” (Written by Dave Mustaine, from the album “Countdown to Extinction,” Capitol, 1992)

* * *

**Premise**: Both Judy and Nick are well-established within the ZPD and have become quite famous throughout Zootopia. Actually takes place in early 2020, a few short months before “Now Your Nightmare Comes to Life”

* * *

**ZPD Precinct One Headquarters, Second Floor, Office Cubicles, City Center, Zootopia**

It was quite rare for someone working at Precinct One to be able to sneak up on Judy Hopps. Her outrageously good sense of hearing was stuff of legends. Therefore, Francine Pennington was deeply surprised when, after she had knocked softly at the wall of her tiny cubicle, Judy gave a visible jerk.

“What’s up, Judy?” she asked. “Don’t tell me you fell asleep!”

Judy gave her a somewhat sheepish grin. “I almost did.”

“Quite boring when Nick’s not around, eh? Where is he, by the way?”

“Oh, he asked for a few days off. He’s helping his mother doing stuff.”

“His mother? Didn’t even know he had one.”

Judy grinned. “Everybody has a mother, you know.”

Francine rolled her eyes. “Wisenheimer! Didn’t know his mother’s still alive.”

“He may be older than the two of us, but he’s not that old.”

“Right, but he never mentions her, so I sort-of assumed she was dead.”

“You know how he is, he never mentions anything personal.”

“Even with you?”

“Even with me. Keeps everything close to his chest.” Judy shrugged. “I tried to get him to talk about his past for years, and while he certainly told me a lot of stories about his hustling days, he has hardly ever mentioned anything related to his family, to his childhood. Just tiny bits and pieces. Not enough to get more than a glimpse into his past. But yes, his mother’s still alive, although I’ve never met her. She needs Nick’s help for cleaning house or something. At least that’s what Nick told me.”

Francine nodded. “I see. So now, with him not being here, you’re stuck doing paperwork.”

“You’re not saying!” Judy said mockingly before looking at her computer’s screen and giving a sigh. “I mean, it’s not like Nick doesn’t deserve a few days off, but I’d rather work on the beat with him than catching up on paperwork.” She made a pause. “Not necessarily my favorite pastime.”

Francine grinned. “Rejoice! Your salvation is finally here!”

All tiredness seemed to leave Judy in an instant, to be replaced by joyful exuberance. “Really?”

“Yup. I need your help. Remember the case Markus and I are tackling right now?”

“You mean the string of robbed jewelry shops?”

“That’s the one. Well, Clawhauser received a phone call half an hour ago. A private eye told him that he might be able to provide a bit of help on the case.”

“A private eye?”

Francine nodded, making no effort to hide her disdain. Most police officers disliked private investigators on principle. The vast majority of them were a meddlesome bunch, sticking their noses in other peoples’ businesses, obstructing police work in the process. “Yeah, and while I honestly don’t see how this might give us a new lead in our case, the Chief thinks it’s worth a shot, seeing that progress is almost non-existent so far.”

“He’s right. But, uhm, I don’t see where I come in here. Just go over there, get his statement, and …”

“Well, and there’s the catch. You see, the guy’s an arctic fox by the name of Rockwell MacIntyre. He has an office in Happytown.”

“Are you seriously telling me you don’t wanna go there?” Judy grinned. “Afraid of foxes? Don’t tell Nick if you are! To him, it’ll be like Christmas came early.”

“Har har. It’s just, since this private eye’s an arctic fox, which are even smaller than red foxes, his office is obviously fox-sized, so with me being an elephant and Markus a polar bear …”

“See, and that’s why I’m always telling you that bigger isn’t necessarily better.” Judy closed her laptop computer and got up from her chair, stretching as she did so. “What are the details?” she added matter-of-factly.

* * *

**Office of “MacIntyre Investigations,” Happytown, Zootopia**

Even before there was a solid knock at the door leading to his office, Rocky MacIntyre had already heard a mammal approaching, a rather small one, by the sound of it. No padded paws, no hooves either. Probably some small prey mammal.

Which was surprising. Most of his clients - the few there were - were smaller predators.

“Come in! The door’s unlocked,” he shouted.

The door opened, and indeed, the mammal entering the room …

_Rabbit. _Oryctolagus cuniculus._ Small mammal. Little strength in upper torso and arms, but very strong legs. Therefore excellent at running, jumping, and kicking. Superior reflexes, able to dodge all but the fastest punches. Eyesight is below average, the other senses mediocre, but sense of hearing is outstanding. Sneaking up on them difficult. In paw-to-paw combat, caution is advised. Not the greatest of punchers, but extraordinarily good at avoiding punches and kicks and very dangerous when able to deliver kicks themselves. A rabbit well-trained in the martial arts can be a serious threat._

_Strengths: Quickness and agility, avoiding punches, kicks._

_Weak spots: Due to their small size, virtually every part of their body._

_This particular rabbit … female, not overly tall, but with excellent poise and stance. Very muscular for a rabbit, the muscles themselves are well-defined, so probably very strong for her size. Posture of a seasoned fighter, ready and able to deliver a flurry of punches and kicks at a moments’ notice. Very dangerous opponent, if …_

Rocky shook his head, silencing the tiny voice in the back of his mind. Threat assessment was one of the first things he had learned in the Nagerian Armed Forces, and it still was one of the things he excelled at. But there were times when it was little more than an annoyance.

But sometimes, it gave him all the info he needed.

“Ah, Officer Hopps, I presume,” Rocky said, getting up and walking around his office desk.

The doe stopped in her stride, looking down at her civilian clothing, a flannel shirt and blue jeans. Which was the smart thing to wear for her. With Happytown being as close to skid row as you can be in a city which, officially, had no slums, with being in a district where people were poor and crime was thriving, appearing in full uniform by your lonesome wasn’t the most intelligent of moves. “You know who I am?”

“Of course. As far as I know, there are no rabbits in law enforcement, other than you.” He extended his paw. “Rockwell MacIntyre, at your service.”

Hopps narrowed her eyes while returning the pawshake. “Are you one of those guys who recognizes a cop when he sees one?”

“I certainly am. So, what may I do for you?” He pointed at the chair standing in front of the desk. “Please take a seat.”

“Thank you, sir.” Hopps jumped onto the chair, which was slightly too big for her, and sat down. “You gave us a call, saying that you wanted to make a statement.”

“I did indeed. You are looking for the culprits breaking into all those jewelry shops, right?”

“That’s right, yes.”

“Good. I can give you both their names and their current hideout.”

Hopps proceeded to take a notepad and a somewhat big pen the size and shape of a carrot out of her purse. “You do?”

“Yes. They are a trio of buffaloes.”

“Buffaloes?”

“Cape buffaloes, to be more precise. Their leader is a guy named Damon Bosston. Runs a pawn shop in the Rainforest District by daylight, which he uses to sell the goods he steals during nighttime, claiming they had been sold to him, but their owners were incapable of redeeming them.”

“That’s why they only steal so few, but very valuable items.”

“Correct. He can’t sell half the contents you find in a jewelry shop, not without attracting suspicion.”

“How did you learn of this?” Hopps asked, scribbling furiously.

Rocky shrugged. “In my line of work, you get around, you listen, you see. If you are attentive, you can find the most astonishing things.”

“So you were working on a case yourself.”

“Yes, I was, and before you ask, that job’s none of your business. I offer my clients complete secrecy, so none of the cases …”

Hopps smiled. “I wasn’t about to ask you about your case. It’s of no concern to me, and to be honest, I couldn’t care less about your work. But I wanna know how exactly you came by that information?”

“Why? So you’ll know if the information can be trusted?”

On this, Hopps put down the pen and looked up. “Sorry if you misunderstood me, but I have to rule out the possibility that you were mistaken or simply got the wrong idea. I didn’t mean to insinuate that I don’t trust you.”

“I know you trust foxes. Your partner’s one, after all.”

“How do you know?”

“Gee, I don’t know. Maybe because the two of you happen to be on the news at least once a month, lauded for having solved yet another heinous crime.”

Hopps gave him a somewhat embarrassed smile. “You are exaggerating, sir.”

“Am I? In the last year, you arrested no less than 182 mammals for bank heists, burglary, aggravated assault, and heaven knows how many other crimes.”

“You seem to have taken a tally.”

“I may have, yes.”

“Why?”

Rocky just gave her a smile, opting to ignore the question. “I was visiting the aforementioned pawn shop and overheard Mr. Bosston in a conversation with another buffalo.” He noticed that Hopps had started writing again. “They were talking about a really valuable ring he was about to sell to a customer. At first, I paid this little heed, but then I got to see the ring. It looked an awful lot like one of the items that have been stolen a few days earlier in a jewelry shop in Sahara Square. A gold ring, with an almost pure 3-carat diamond, three small rubies and twelve even smaller diamonds. If I remember correctly, it’s an individual item and worth more money than the two of us make in ten years.”

“Where did you learn about this particular item? How it looked, when and where it was stolen?”

“I’ve made it a habit to read the official publications made by the ZPD. Which is why I know that you and your workmates are asking the public for help finding that very ring.”

“So you gave us a call?”

Rocky shook his head. “No, I paid that pawn shop another visit first. And I was armed with this.” He pointed at the small camera that was lying on his desk. It looked more like an oversized pen than like a digital camera. “And these,” he pointed at a stack of small pieces of paper lying next to it, “are the pictures I took. There’s a picture of the ring in there, a bit blurry, but the ring is easily identifiable. And I have pictures of the three guys. All of them are buffalos. And there’s yet another interesting similarity between the three: In his youth, Mr. Bosston was an accomplished mountaineer, able to climb even the steepest cliffs with ease. And so are his colleagues. Their names are Ismail Manda and Gordan Bivol. In 2012, they came in first and third in the free climbing event at the X-Games.”

“You know them?”

“I know Mr. Bosston, but I didn’t know his cronies. But then I came across an old newspaper article about Bosston which told me that, apart from running the pawn shop, he has at one point been the head trainer of one of Zootopia’s free climbing teams, and the article also named Manda and Bivol as his two best students. Two years ago, he was kicked out after being accused of some misdemeanor or another, and now he’s in league with his students. My guess is that they simply climb the buildings to enter them on the top floor, thus circumventing the alarms. Plus, I overheard them making plans for another heist, which is about to take place tonight, at another shop in Sahara Square.”

“That’s spectacular news, sir,” Hopps said, excitement in her voice. “Do you know where the heist is going to take place exactly?”

“Unfortunately not. But as far as I know, there are only five possibilities, five shops that fit the bill. We’re looking for shops on the ground floor of apartment buildings. Since they robbed two of them already, which means that security on these shops will have tightened severely, three remain. I’ve added a list of all possible addresses. It’s there, with the pictures.”

“May I?”

“Go ahead.”

She took the pictures, examining them closely. “Well, that seems to be good enough. How were you able to get that close without being seen?”

Rocky shrugged. “Professional secret.”

Hopps made a face. “Why do all you foxes keep so many secrets?” she muttered, just loud enough for him to be able to hear it.

“Are you referring to your partner?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Of course I …” Hopps looked up and stared at him. “You know him?”

“I do, yes.”

“How?”

“I am not at liberty to divulge that piece of information.”

Hopps grunted. “That sounds like something he would have said.”

“I know. He said it all the time, back in the days.”

“The days of what?”

He grinned. “I am not at liberty …” He made a pause. “He’s not just your partner, he’s your friend, right?”

“Of course he is! We’ve been working together for more than two, almost three years. Of course we’re friends. Best of friends actually!”

“Well, that’s one thing we have - _had_ \- in common. Nick was one of my best friends for years.”

“Was?”

“I haven’t seen him in over five years.”

“So when you gave the ZPD a call, you were hoping he’d come here?”

“I may have hoped for it, yes, but in the end, you have a crime to solve, you were asking the public for clues, with the promise of quite a substantial reward, so I’m merely fulfilling my obligations as a citizen of Zootopia.”

“Hoping for said reward, right?” Hopps said, looking around.

Rocky made a face. His office was quite run-down, not seedy, but certainly not the office of a rich mammal. “You, of all mammals, should know how it is with foxes. Most mammals look down on us with disdain, so work isn’t exactly flourishing. Or why do you think we are in Happytown? I simply can’t afford the rents they ask for in Tundratown.”

Now Hopps made a face. “Yeah, I know. Despite everything Nick’s done, there still are idiots who treat him like he’s absolutely useless as a cop, like he’s not trustworthy at all. Then again, they also say a lot of ugly things about rabbits. Useless, weak, cute, good only at multiplying, that sort of stuff. So, yeah, I know where you come from.”

Both fell silent for a few seconds. Finally, Rocky cleared his throat. “So, where is this partner of yours?”

“Oh, Nick has a few days off. He’s helping his mother clean house or something, you know.”

“His mother? They are on speaking terms again?”

“Uh, what are you talking about?”

Rocky made a dismissive gesture. “Forget it.” He hesitated.

Hopps gave him a warm smile. “Should I give him a call? You really wanna see him again, right?”

Rocky sighed. “I do, yes.”

Instead of a reply, Hopps got a cell phone out of her purse. Wiping the screen and executing a few quick inputs, she looked at the phone’s camera with a grin. After a few seconds, a male voice piped up. “_Carrots! How nice of you to give me a call_.”

“Hello, Slick,” Hopps said with a smile. “Am I disturbing you?”

“_No, not at all. My mom just asked me to help her sift through some old stuff in her attic. Right now we’re sitting in a café, sipping hot coffee and trying to make up our minds what to keep, what to donate to charity and what to throw out._”

“What kind of stuff?”

“_Everything from kitchen appliances to clothes to porcelain figurines to furniture_.”

“Anything I might be interested in?”

“_I don’t think so. Most of the stuff won’t fit in your apartment anyway._”

“There really is nothing?”

“_Well, there was one old dresser which might have fit the bill, but I’m afraid that thing’s FUBAR. Won a one-way trip to the dumpsite, I guess_.”

“You are hauling dressers?”

“_Among other things, yes_.”

“Back’s hurting already?”

“_Are you kidding? I’m just getting warmed up, you know_.”

“Funny,” Rocky said before Hopps was able to say anything. “The Nick Wilde I knew refused to lift anything heavier than a pawpsicle.”

There was silence at the other end of the line. “_Excuse me? Who are you?_” Nick said finally.

Rocky gave a grin. “Fried potatoes blossom in blue.”

“What?” Hopps said.

Rocky merely kept grinning at her, while the line was silent. Finally, after several seconds, Nick’s voice piped up again - and it sounded very urgent: “_Where are you, Carrots?_”

“Uhm, a private detective’s office in Happytown, at Scarborough Lane, above the …” she hesitated. “Hello? Nick?”

“Hung up on you?” Rocky said with a smile.

Instead of an answer, Hopps returned the cell phone to her purse. “What was that about fried potatoes?”

Rocky shrugged. “I don’t know if I’m out of line here, but you do know Nick quite well, right?”

Hopps shrugged as well. “As good as he allows anyone to know him. He has a lot of secrets, but I guess I know him better than most other mammals in Zootopia.”

“Did he tell you what he did before joining the ZPD?”

“Yes, I know that he worked as a con artist. That’s the first thing I learned about him.” Hopps smiled. “During our first meeting, he hustled me into buying a jumbo pop for him which he and his buddy Finnick turned into dozens of tiny pawpsicles which he could then sell for good cash.”

Rocky grinned. “Did he ever return the money?”

Hopps looked at him with a startled expression. “Actually … no, he never did. Sort of slipped our minds, I guess.” Suddenly, she gave him a grin that looked somewhat dirty. “But seeing that I hustled him, too, I guess we’re even.”

“You hustled him?”

“Yeah, into helping me with my first case.”

Rocky nodded. “Right, the Missing Mammals case, I remember. What did you do to him exactly, if I may ask?”

“I threatened him with arresting him for felony tax evasion unless he would help me solve the case.”

Rocky made a frown. “How is that hustling? That’s blackmail!”

“Not quite. Felony tax evasion is a federal offense, not a municipal one. Since I’m a city cop, not a federal cop, it’s not my duty to pursue tax dodgers. I’m only allowed to do it when I receive such an order from my superiors or a federal agency.”

“Ah. I had no idea. He didn’t know it either, eh?”

“He didn’t. Fell for it hook, line, and sinker.”

“Clever. Really clever. So you do know what he did exactly.”

“I do. And on top of hustling mammals out of their hard-earned money, he also used to work for a crime boss, but he had ended that association before I met him.”

“You can call Mr. Big by name in here.”

“You know him?”

“I worked for him, too. That’s how Nick and I first met. And the fried potatoes line was one of the catchphrases we used when talking to each other on the phone.”

“Why did you use a catchphrase?”

“Well, you can probably imagine that life on the fringes of society isn’t exactly what I would call healthy. You never know if a guy whose face you rearranged a few weeks earlier might be after your blood. Since there was no such thing as MuzzleTime back then, you never knew if the guy who gave you the call was the real deal. Hence the catchphrases. Nobody would come up with phrases like ‘Fried potatoes blossom in blue’ or ‘For little knows my royal dame that Rumpelstiltskin is my name.’”

“What the heck’s a Rumpel … pumpel?”

“Rumpelstiltskin? I have no idea. Nick came up with all that stuff. I never really cared, as long as it worked. And it did. He said one of those sentences, I knew it really was him.”

“You’ve been working together quite closely, I gather.”

“I was assigned to be his bodyguard.”

“Say again!”

“When Nick started working for Mr. Big, he started small, like everyone did. He was little more than one of the countless hustlers. But he was way more successful than most of the other guys working for Mr. Big, and after he had won the old shrews’ confidence, he was entrusted with more significant stuff, like fetching valuable packages or delivering important messages. And whenever he was sent on one of those errands, I was assigned to be his bodyguard, since Nick knew nothing about self-defense. So, whenever Nick was sent on an important errand by Mr. Big, I was told to offer him protection. Not that it had ever been necessary, but orders are orders. Be that as it may, we spent a lot of time together. And over time, we became friends.”

“If you were assigned to protect Nick, it means that you must be quite good at self-defense, right?”

“I like to think that I am, yes.”

Hopps grinned. “Are you at liberty to divulge the information of how you came by your skills?”

He pointed at a picture on the wall. It showed an arctic fox in military combat gear, complete with a steel helmet, carrying an assault rifle. His almost white face was covered in camouflage face paint. He was standing next to a troop carrier, about to enter the vehicle.

Hopps nodded. “Doesn’t look like the Zootopian forces.”

“I’m impressed. Most people don’t recognize this.”

Hopps shrugged. “Met a few soldiers a couple of months ago. Their gear looked different.”

“It is. Mine’s from the Royal Armed Forces, Nageria.”

“What did you do exactly? Sniper? Marine?”

“The latter.”

“Ah. Maybe I …” she interrupted herself, ears erect and pivoting. “That was quick!”

Rocky frowned. “What do you mean?”

Before Hopps was able to answer, Rocky heard it himself - fast, yet heavy pawsteps, as if someone was in a full sprint. Merely three seconds later, the approaching mammal had reached the door, but didn’t give it a knock. He simply yanked the door open.

And Nick Wilde stood in the door frame.

_Red fox. _Vulpes vulpes_. Small mammal. Agile, able to run quite quickly and cover great distances in a jump, despite having rather short legs. Not the greatest stamina, prefer sneaking up on opponents. Excellent eyesight, good sense of hearing, good sense of smell …_

Rocky shook his head to silence the voice, then he took in the looks of his old friend.

The changes he saw in Nick were nothing short of astounding. The red fox had gained a considerable amount of weight, and in muscles only. And his more muscular frame had changed his posture completely. Gone was the slouching, to be replaced with alertness, with battle-readiness. The changes were so dramatic, only Nick’s face indicated that he was still the same mammal he’d met all those years ago.

In earlier years, Rocky had always maintained that even a wet blanket would be able to wrestle Nick to the ground.

Now he wasn’t sure if even a battle-hardened wolf could do the trick.

“That was quick,” Hopps said. “Where’ve you been?”

“Oh, we were sitting in that little café near Hickory Fields. Mom loves that place. We’ve been there all the time when I was a cub. I grew up in Happytown after all, Carrots.”

“Wait, that’s where that car repair shop is, right? That’s more than a mile, Nick.”

“Yeah. So?”

“That’s fast!”

Rocky couldn’t help feeling impressed. Nick had obviously covered the distance to his office at a full sprint, yet he wasn’t out of breath, not even remotely.

Nick walked into the office slowly, looking at Rocky as if he had seen a ghost. “I really thought you were dead, that someone had finally offed you.”

Rocky got up from his chair. “And hello to you, too, old buddy!”

Nick walked around the desk and flung his arms around Rocky. “Boy, am I glad to see you!”

“The feeling’s mutual, Nick,” Rocky said, returning the embrace.

For a few seconds, they stood in their embrace, then Nick took a few steps back. “Damn! Where’ve you been? Last I heard, you were on the run from Mr. Big!”

“I was. But we buried the hatchet.”

Suddenly, Rocky heard someone clear his throat. “What happened?” Hopps asked.

Rocky looked at the bunny and shrugged. “Everything fell apart, that’s what happened.”

“What do you mean?” Nick asked.

“You had your falling-out with Mr. Big, and guess who was dispatched to teach you a lesson?”

Nick made a pause. “So how comes that I didn’t end up in hospital in the shape of a pretzel?”

Rocky raised an eyebrow. “Do you really need to ask, brother?”

Nick made a face. “Bet Mr. Big didn’t like that?”

“Not one bit. Sent Kevin and Raymond after me. And afterwards, I had to disappear.”

“Wait a second!” Hopps shouted. “You were attacked by two polar bears?”

“You know them?” Rocky asked.

“We’ve met, yes. How did you manage to get out of that?”

Nick guffawed. “That was a walk in the park for him, Carrots, believe me! You ever heard the name Arctic Fire?”

“Uh, no. You sound like I should have.”

Nick heaved a sigh. “I keep forgetting you didn’t grow up here, Fluff. This mammal here,” he pointed at Rocky, “took down a rhino, a tiger, and three horses at the same time without breaking a sweat. You consider yourself to be a great fighter, Carrots? Wait until you’ve seen him in action.”

Rocky looked down at Hopps. He had already decided that she would probably be able to hold her ground in a fight, still … “A great fighter?”

“You are talking to the defending ZPD MMA champion,” Nick said. “Won two titles in a row, after being runner-up in her first year. At Precinct One, she’s undefeated so far.”

Rocky nodded. “To be honest, I’m not surprised. You have the stance of a seasoned fighter.” He gave a slight bow. “Truth be told, I would love to pit my skills against yours.”

Hopps gave a grin. “You’re on! There’s a gym nearby, you know.”

Rocky had to laugh at that. “And eager, too.”

“You have no idea,” Nick said.

“Such a bother, eh?”

“Rather the opposite. Her eagerness has saved my hide several times. I wouldn’t wanna change anything about it any time soon. She’s my partner, my best buddy, the reason I’m a cop and no longer hustling mammals. And before you ask, I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“You remember when Mr. Big told you that you were no hustler? Seems like he was right.”

Nick shrugged. “You know what? He was. I never was a true hustler. I always wanted to do good, I always wanted to help people. Sadly, people gave me no chance. You know what that feels like, don’t you?”

“I do indeed.” Rocky looked at Hopps again. “And it took a bunny to make you see the error of your ways?”

Nick grinned. “Stranger things have happened.” He looked around. “So, private eye?”

“Yup. After Mr. Big and I cleared the air, he offered me another shot, but I declined. Seeing that you were on the straight and narrow, I honestly didn’t want to return to my old ways either. So I tried my luck at honest work. Took some time, but I finally found this place and opened my own detective agency.”

“Does it pay the bills?”

“It does, barely. The rent is small, fortunately, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to keep on doing this.”

“Same old story?”

“Same old story, yes.”

Nick gave him a smile. “You know, I think I have something better for you.”

* * *

**ZPD Precinct One Headquarters, Office of the Chief of Police, City Center, Zootopia**

Adrian Bogo was just in the process of signing the last report when there was a knock at the door. “Enter!” he shouted.

The mammal who entered the room was among the last ones he’d expected to appear, particularly not in that garb. “Wilde? Since when do you come to your workplace on a day off?”

Nick Wilde approached the desk, one of his legendary smirks on his face. He was wearing a blue coverall, a far cry from his usual civilian clothes which, as far as Bogo was concerned, were little more than an eyesore. He held several files in one of his paws. “How about we start this conversation with a nice ‘Good afternoon?’”

Bogo made a dismissive gesture. “Yeah, yeah! Get to the point!”

“Busy?”

Bogo looked down at his desktop, which, at this point, was almost empty. “I have a few minutes to spare, if that’s what you want to know.”

“Great. I may have to ask you a favor.”

“A favor? Do you need my help?” He pointed at the chair in front of his desk.

“Oh no, not me. An old friend of mine.” Wilde placed the files onto the desktop and climbed into the chair.

“A friend of yours? Back from your hustling days?”

“Exactly.” He reached into the breast pocket to produce a photo which he gave to Bogo.

Bogo looked at the picture. “I never imagined you being friends with a soldier.”

“Yeah, weird, right? Chief, meet Sergeant Rockwell Alexander MacIntyre, Her Majesty’s Armed Forces, Nageria, Naval Infantry.”

“A marine?”

“Yes. One of the best.”

“Ah. I take it he’s no longer a soldier.”

“No, that picture was taken more than ten years ago. That was the time when everything was still peachy.” Wilde made a pause. “For you to understand what I want to ask you to do, I need to tell you first what you’re dealing with, sir.”

“Alright, if it doesn’t take to long.”

“I’ll try to be brief. Rocky’s from old military stock. Most of his ancestors picked up the rifle and swore the oath of service. But since Nageria and Zootopia aren’t all that different, they were facing the same prejudices foxes are facing here. So none of his ancestors ever made it above Private First Class.

“Rocky did. He simply was a natural. Not only was he good enough to become a marine, he was so good that his Lieutenant, who had taken a liking to him, suggested him for a special training program, instigated by the government, which was aimed at creating some sort of super soldier. The program ultimately folded, because the results were lackluster. They wanted the ultimate leaders, they got the ultimate followers. But those followers, they were something. Rocky was one of them. His skills became absolutely astonishing. So astonishing that his superiors made him a Sergeant after less than two years. He was one of the youngest Sergeants in history, and the first fox in the Nagerian Armed Forces to become one. He was given a platoon to lead, and he and his platoon soon excelled at everything they did.”

“Didn’t you just say that program didn’t produce leaders?”

“Yes, I did. His platoon didn’t excel because Rocky was a great leader. He’s the first one to admit that he isn’t, he told me so himself. All he could do was lead by example, but that example was so good, his subordinates improved almost automatically. The company he was a member of already had an outstanding reputation, but the third platoon was its _pièce de résistance_. You needed success at all costs, they were the guys who were dispatched to solve the problem. And they were always successful.

“This success created envy, especially among several of his so-called comrades who had hoped to get the spot he had been given. He had been promoted ahead of them, so they were jealous. And of course they didn’t like foxes all that much, like so many mammals on this planet. So, after a get-together, probably beer-fueled, they decided to teach him a lesson. Five guys. Two antelopes, two rhinos, one hippo.

“They ambushed him, probably just to give him a good beating. What they didn’t count on was that Rocky would defend himself. And defend himself he did. He broke both arms of one of the rhinos and blinded one of the antelopes on one eye. That’s when one of the other guys, Rocky thinks it was the hippo, but he can’t remember clearly, produced a knife to leave a more permanent message.”

Wilde made a pause, allowing Bogo to say: “So now he’s a cripple and needs money …”

“He won the fight.”

“He did?”

“Rocky was stabbed five times, still he won. Spent two months in hospital afterwards. But the guys who attacked him, they had gotten the really short end of the stick. None of them was fit for duty anymore, unlike Rocky, who recovered completely.”

“Impressive.”

“Yeah. But that’s when things took a nasty turn. The moment he left the hospital, he was arrested and charged with aggravated assault and attempted mammalslaughter.”

“Wait a second! He was attacked, he defended himself, and _he_ was arrested? Not the other guys?”

“No. There were no eye witnesses - it all took place in the dead of night, and the guys attacking him had taken great care to not let anyone see what was going on. So they were able to gang up on him again, accusing him of having attacked them.”

“That’s ridiculous!”

“I’m glad that you see it that way. His garrison commander, however, had a different opinion. Even when nobody was able to give proof that Rocky had attacked first, the commander, a zebra, obviously had it in for him. To him, Rocky was obviously guilty by default. His other superiors, especially the Lieutenant I mentioned earlier, who held Rocky in much higher esteem, thought otherwise, but it didn’t matter. As the garrison commander, the zebra trumped them all. Despite the fact that every accusation crumbled under closer inspection, he still gave Rocky a dishonorable discharge for conduct unbecoming a Nagerian marine. On a side note, the guys who attacked him got away scot-free, apart from the fact that their military careers were over as well. They were never even charged with any crime.”

“That’s an outrage!” Bogo thundered.

“It is. Can you imagine what Rocky did next?”

“I’m guessing he went for revenge.”

“He did. But not on the guys who attacked him.”

Bogo sat up straighter. “He went after the commander?”

“He did. Put him in a wheelchair. Broke his back to the point of being beyond healing. The guy ended up a paraplegic.”

“Which made your friend a fugitive.”

“Sorry, wrong again, Chief. After he had beaten the zebra to a pulp, he patiently waited next to the poor sod for the military police to arrive and arrest him.”

“What? Why?”

Nick shrugged. “Because that’s what good soldiers do. If they commit a crime, they admit to it and await their just punishment. The ZPD has similar rules, right?”

“It sure has. So he was arrested and convicted.”

“Twelve years in the pen.”

Bogo leaned back in his chair. “I hope you don’t mind me saying that he deserved it.”

“I agree. What he did, that was absolutely inexcusable. The thing had simply infuriated him, and in his fury, he made a major mistake. He says so himself, I was actually quoting him here. Even now, some ten years later, he still regrets it. While beating the guy up, he simply got carried away. He wanted to harm the guy, yes, but he never intended to put him in a wheelchair.”

Bogo heaved a sigh. “Like I always say, don’t let your emotions get the better of you.”

Wilde gave him a grin. “I actually never heard you say this.”

“Because you never gave me any reason to. Like _you_ always say, never let them see that they get to you. You have kept your cool under the most precarious circumstances. So why should I have told you to keep your emotions in check? You are better at it than me anyway.”

“Why, thank you, Chief! Anyway, so Rocky went to prison and would have stayed there until, well, he would probably still be in prison.”

“What happened?”

“An arctic shrew happened, an arctic shrew you know quite well, I think.”

Bogo snorted. His dislike for crime bosses was almost proverbial. When asked about his single deepest regret, he invariably said that being unable to put all the crime bosses thriving in Zootopia behind bars was his. “Let me guess, Mr. Big gave them a heap of cash, and all charges were dropped.”

“Something like that. One of the girls working for him was from Nageria, and she’d heard the whole, sad story and told it to Mr. Big. Who sensed an opportunity immediately. So he made sure Rocky would be released, and he invited him over to Zootopia, into his home, treating him like a king. After a few days of pampering Rocky, he made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.

“And so the former marine became Mr. Big’s most trusted enforcer.”

“An arctic fox.” Bogo looked at the picture again. “Somehow I find that hard to believe.”

“You ever heard the name Arctic Fire?”

“Of course I …” Bogo made a pause. “This … _this is Arctic Fire?!?_”

“In the flesh.”

“_An arctic fox?_”

“An arctic fox he is, yes.”

“How … how is that possible? He put way more than one hundred mammals in hospital! Rhinos, horses, tigers, lions … how did he do that?”

Wilde grinned. “He’s just that good.” He became serious again. “His training has turned him into the best soldier you can possibly imagine. His skills in paw-to-paw combat are unrivaled, he’s an expert marksmammal, …”

“Better than you?”

Wilde snorted. “I can hit a fly at one hundred paces. Rocky can hit a fly’s _legs_ at one hundred paces. And he’s a master infiltrator. If he doesn’t want to be found, you won’t find him if he’s sitting under your very nose. He can sneak in undetected, take out the target, and get away undetected. All you end up with is an unconscious victim and a lot of questions.”

Bogo looked at the picture again. “I still don’t believe it.”

“Nobody does. I didn’t either, when I first met him. He simply doesn’t look that dangerous, and when you meet him on the street, he’s just the nicest, funniest guy on this planet. But once he enters a fight, it’s like a switch is flicked. He turns into a machine, I have no other words for it. He certainly isn’t the biggest or strongest mammal on this planet - heck, he’s smaller than me -, but he’s so fast, so ferocious, so precise, most of his opponents merely catch a glimpse at him before they collapse in an unconscious heap. He has an extensive knowledge of strengths and weaknesses of other mammals, so he knows exactly where to strike, how hard to strike, how to move to avoid attacks. With him, fighting turns into an art form. It simply doesn’t matter how skilled, how strong, how big they are. He simply takes them out, just like that.” Nick snapped his digits to illustrate the quickness of execution. “And I should know, I watched him do it countless times.”

“Is he as good as Hopps?”

“Better.” He made a pause. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

Bogo allowed himself a grin. “You better not let Hopps hear that one.”

“Oh, they’re already talking about pitting their skills against each other.”

“This is a fight I have to see.”

“You and everybody else, I guess.”

“Is he still working for Mr. Big? Does he need our help to find his way out?”

“No, he stopped working for Mr. Big long ago. About the same time I had my … misadventure with Mr. Big.”

“Don’t tell me you had something to do with it.”

“I have, albeit indirectly. You know, Rocky fulfilled several tasks during his time with Mr. Big. He was one of his personal bodyguards. The one nobody even recognized as such. While everybody saw the polar bears and considered them to be the threat, nobody even noticed the small arctic fox waiting in the shadows. He was, in a manner of speaking, the last line of defense in case everything else failed. During his time with Mr. Big, he, personally, thwarted three assassination attempts. You can imagine how grateful Mr. Big was.

“This bodyguard job was sometimes extended on other mammals. I was one of them. Whenever I was on an important errand, Rocky protected me. Not that it had ever been necessary, but Mr. Big deemed it prudent, and we certainly didn’t contradict him. Particularly after we had found out that we liked each other very much. He became the brother I never had. We did lots of stuff together, for Mr. Big and on our own. He was my closest friend by far and away. We were so different, yet so alike. I loved him to death, and I know for a fact that he would gladly have given his life for me.”

Wilde made a pause and cleared his throat. “Yet another job he did for Mr. Big was that of an enforcer. Someone disappointed the old shrew, he was dispatched to beat some sense into the mammal. He would sneak in, beat the culprit senseless, leave a note, and vanish again. After a while, it became so boring to him, so little of a challenge, that he started taunting his victims from his vantage point before finally attacking them. That’s how he garnered his reputation. He alerted his victims to his presence, to the fact that they were about to be attacked, only to prove that this was not to their advantage.”

“I’m starting to sense where this is heading,” Bogo said softly.

“Obvious, isn’t it? When I had disappointed Mr. Big, he was sent to teach me a lesson. And he found me, despite my best efforts to stay out of sight. Yet another one of his countless skills: You weren’t able to hide from him. No matter where you went, he found you. He always found his mark.

“But after he had found me, after he was prepared to give me the beating I may have deserved, he found out to his dismay that he wasn’t able to pull the trigger.”

“He was supposed to kill you?”

“Of course not! It was just a figure of speech.” Wilde made another pause. “I was his only friend, the only guy, apart from Mr. Big, who had always treated him with respect. Apart from me, he had nobody. And he found out that he simply wasn’t able to attack me.

“So he returned to Mr. Big and told him about his failure, just as he had waited next to the commander he had beaten up. As you can probably imagine, Mr. Big didn’t take too kindly to hearing that kind of unwelcome news. So he sicced two of his polar bears on him.”

“Which he took out.”

“And with ease at that. Afterwards, he went into hiding, and no matter how hard Mr. Big tried to find him, Rocky had simply vanished. Most people thought he was dead, me included.

“And then the Missing Mammals case happened, and I made amends with Mr. Big, sort of.”

“What do you mean, sort of?”

Wilde shrugged. “Mr. Big doesn’t seem to consider me an enemy anymore, but he never told me that I was in his good graces again either. We’ve buried the hatchet, nothing more, nothing less. And that’s okay, I can live with that. Especially since my current line of work doesn’t agree with his.

“Anyway, once Mr. Big and I had cleared the air, he sent out feelers for Rocky. When Rocky learned of this, he went to Mr. Big, who apologized to him and offered him his old job again. But Rocky declined the offer.”

“He did? Why?”

“Because of me. I had just entered the ZPA, I was on my way to become a cop, and he thought that maybe he should take the hint. He left Mr. Big and did so on good terms, then he opened his own detective agency. Trying to put all his skills at finding mammals to good use. Staying on the good side of the law this time.”

“Let me guess, it doesn’t really pay the bills, right?”

“It doesn’t. He still is a fox, he still is disrespected by many mammals, so jobs are scarce. He makes a living, barely. Which is a pity, because he can be so much more.” Wilde leaned back in his chair. “He could be an outstanding police officer.”

“You think so?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

“Does he have a criminal record?”

“No. I just read his file.” He pointed at the files on the desk. “It’s empty. Not even a traffic violation. And while it’s mentioned that he is a former marine, you won’t find anything related to his dishonorable discharge, his arrest or his conviction. Mr. Big took care of that, I guess.”

“So as far as the ZPD knows, he’s just an honest, hard-working mammal with a military background and skills we could put to good use in our SWAT team.”

“Exactly. Imagine a bank heist. The whole place is surrounded, the perps have nowhere to go, but they’ve taken hostages. You send in Rocky, he somehow sneaks in, and ten minutes later you receive the ‘all clear.’”

“You think he could do it?”

“Blindfolded.”

Bogo made a pause. “Why do they call him Arctic Fire? I mean, I understand the ‘arctic’ part, but ‘fire?’”

“Well, he has something of a temper. Remember the attack on his commander. He was pissed off, so he went on a rampage. ”

“Is he safe to work with? I don’t want a powder keg with a lit fuse on my roster.”

“You won’t get one. He’s not unstable by any means, rather the opposite. He’s good at keeping his temper in check, and it isn’t easy to provoke him. However, if you manage to do it, if you really piss him off, you should give him a wide berth afterwards. His temper _will_ get the better of him. And if that’s the case, pain ensues. But as long as you don’t give him any reason to lose his temper, he’s the nicest guy you can possibly imagine.”

“So you vouch for him.”

“That goes without saying, sir.”

“Where is he?”

“Oh, he’s waiting down in the lobby with Judy.”

“Ah. He’s the private eye who wanted to give us a lead on the robbed jewelry shops?”

“Not only that. He basically solved the case.”

“Really?”

“Yep.” Nick pointed at the files again. “A buffalo by the name of Damon Bosston and two cronies, also buffaloes.”

“Bosston? Doesn’t he run a pawn shop in Rainforest District?”

“He does. That’s where he sells the stolen goods. You can find more on him and his two henchmammals in the files. Including information on how they may have entered the buildings. Rocky believes they have been scaling the walls, entered the buildings via one of the top floors and made it down into the shops proper.”

“Without triggering the alarm.”

“Correct.”

“A buffalo scaling the wall of a building?”

“Bosston was an expert mountaineer in his youth, and his two cronies won several free climbing contests.”

“I see. Well, I guess a trip to Bosston’s pawn shop is in order.”

Wilde shook his head. “According to Rocky, they’re planning another heist tonight, somewhere in Sahara Square. Pennington and Grizzoli are currently setting up teams to catch them in the act.”

Bogo nodded in approval. “Excellent. Could you please ask your friend to come up here? I would like to meet the mammal in person.”

“Of course, Chief!” Wilde got up and left the office.

* * *

**ZPD Precinct One Headquarters, Lobby, City Center, Zootopia**

With half-closed eyes, Rocky watched the turmoil around him. At least two dozen police officers of all shapes and sizes were bustling about, deeply engrossed in their daily work. A few civilians were begging for attention as well, bombarding the chubby cheetah behind the receptionists’ counter with questions. “Is it always this crowded here?” he asked Hopps, who was sitting next to him on one of the benches adorning the lobby.

“Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn’t. This seems to be quite a busy day,” the doe replied.

“I can’t help but notice that Nick and you seem to be the only small mammals around.”

“Oh, there are a few more now. But most of them work in administration, although a coati became a beat cop recently. Plus there’s a bunny who’ll enter the ZPA soon.”

“A bunny?”

“Yes. I know her since high school. She’s a few years younger than me. She’s from Bunnyburrow, too.”

“Interesting. So you set a good example.”

“I’m trying to.”

Rocky looked down at her with a smile. “When considering all the arrests you made, you seem to be doing a great job.”

“Thank you! Nick’s a tremendous help.”

“Of course he is! Always was. Among hustlers, he was the Good Samaritan. Always helpful, always supportive. You had a problem, Nick was there to help you.” Rocky looked around. “Yeah, I guess he fits in well here.”

“You knew he’d succeed as a cop?”

“I was fairly certain, yes. When I heard he’d become a cop, my only thought was: Good thing I’m on the right side of the law now. Wouldn’t want to face him.”

“Why did you never try and meet him?”

Rocky hesitated. “You know, that’s a really good question, Judy … may I call you Judy?”

Hopps smiled. “Only if I may call you Rockwell.”

“I like Rocky better.”

“Okay. Rocky it is.”

“Deal.” Rocky made a pause. “I don’t know. I had started a new life, I had broken with my previous life of crime completely. Guess I thought that included him.”

“That’s a real pity. You two seem to be the greatest of friends.”

“And you two seem to be the greatest of partners.”

Instead of an answer, Hopps opened her purse to pull out her phone. Making a few entries, she held it up for Rocky to see the picture. It was a photo that somebody had obviously taken in this very lobby, showing a rhino lying on his stomach, obviously out cold. Another rhino and a lion were standing next to the rhino, both clad in the uniform of a police officer. So were Nick and Hopps, who were standing side by side on the rhino’s massive back. Their posture was highly peculiar. While Hopps was standing upright, her ears were bent down. That was because Nick had put his arm on her head, using her as a support to lean into her in a most nonchalant manner. They were both grinning. The picture even had a caption - somebody had written “WildeHopps strikes again!” over the empty space below the rhino. “Ben took the picture,” she said in explanation, pointing at the chubby cheetah standing behind the receptionist’s desk. “After we had brought in the rhino drug trafficker, he came up with the idea, and this is what we ended up with.”

“WildeHopps?”

“Yeah. It’s what most guys in here call us. Like we are a single entity.”

“You can’t have one without the other, eh?”

“Something like that.” She put the phone into her purse again. “We’ve been partners since Day One, and apart from a few weeks where we were teaming up with other officers, we’ve been partners ever since. On duty as well as in private life. As a matter of fact, we spend a lot of our free time together.”

Rocky grinned. “Sounds like him and me, some eight years ago.”

Hopps smiled. “Good memories, eh?”

“Good memories. He was the best friend I can possibly imagine.”

“That he is. And speak of the devil …”

Rocky looked up to see Nick approaching, a wide grin on his muzzle. “Come on, Rocky! The Chief wants to meet you.”

Rocky nodded and got up, along with Hopps. They ascended the stairs and walked towards a nondescript door simply bearing the words “Chief Bogo” on the pane of glass. Wilde gave the door a knock, and immediately, an immensely loud voice shouted: “Enter!” They entered the room, and Rocky got a glimpse at the Chief of Police for the first …

_Cape buffalo. _Syncerus caffer caffer_. Large mammal. High physical strength, particularly in the arms. The legs are somewhat weaker. Eyesight is …_

_SHUT UP!_

The buffalo rose from his chair, towering over Rocky, Nick, and Hopps. “I am Chief Adrian Bogo. Welcome to the ZPD, Mr. MacIntyre. Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you, sir.” For a fleeting second, Rocky felt like a meek recruit again. Bogo exuded superiority merely through his presence. The air of command around him was almost palpable.

While Rocky sat down on the chair, Bogo turned towards Nick and Hopps. “I would like to speak to Mr. MacIntyre in private.”

“Of course, Chief,” Hopps said immediately and turned to leave. When Nick didn’t follow her on the spot, she lunged for his tail and pulled him after her, which elicited a slight yelp from Nick. To Rocky’s surprise, Nick didn’t react violently to this kind of mistreatment, but merely turned around and left the room with Hopps.

_No fox in his right mind will ever let another mammal touch his tail, unless it’s a vixen he’s madly in love with. Yet Nick was okay with her pulling his tail._

_I guess calling them best friends is the mother of all understatements._

He looked back at Bogo who was sitting behind his desk again, still towering over Rocky. What Hopps had done to Nick seemed to be something of a normal occurrence between them, because the Chief hadn’t reacted to their actions in any way, shape, or form. He was all business. “It is my understanding that you want to join the ZPD,” he said matter-of-factly.

Rocky carefully waited a few seconds before answering. Of course Nick had told him where he had wanted to take him, and why. And it had taken Rocky basically no time at all to make up his mind. Not wanting to appear over-eager, however, he had decided not to tell Bogo about it, yet. “To be perfectly honest, sir, I don’t really know.”

“What do you mean?”

“This was Nick’s idea. He brought me here, telling me that I’m wasting my talents working as a private investigator. Until he told me, half an hour ago maybe, I never entertained ideas of joining the ZPD. So excuse me, sir, but this is all a bit sudden for me.”

“I understand. Wilde is known for acting on impulse, but his impulses are usually very good.” Bogo made a pause. “He told me of your accomplishments. And to be honest, I didn’t believe him.”

Rocky had no idea how to respond to that, but it seemed like Bogo hadn’t expected an answer anyway, for he picked up a file from his desk and started reading it. After about two minutes of the most pregnant silence Rocky had ever had to experience, Bogo spoke up again. “And nothing in this file indicates that anything of it is true.”

“This is my file?”

“It is.”

Before he was able to stop himself, Rocky blurted out: “So you think Nick lied to you?”

“No, I believe him. He may be a jokester who likes to poke fun at all and sundry, but Wilde has always been completely honest with me. Many mammals tend to believe that foxes are sneaky and untrustworthy. Wilde’s the living proof that this is nothing but prejudiced, speciesist bullshit. He has proven his trustworthiness over and over again. He gave me a thorough account of his own accomplishments, for example, even the most sordid, embarrassing details. So if he tells me something, I can always, and safely, assume that it is indeed the truth and nothing but the truth.” He made another pause. “I would never mistrust his judgment, as I know it is always good and based on solid facts. Still, I just find it hard to believe that a tiny arctic fox was the bane of criminals all over Zootopia.”

Rocky shrugged. “I was trained to be a lethal weapon, sir.”

“Could you take me down?”

“Excuse me?”

“Could you take me down?” Bogo repeated.

“I would never dare to attack a police officer, much less the Chief of Police, sir.”

“Noted. But if I wasn’t, if I was just another target you were assigned to take down, would you be able to do it?”

Rocky hesitated. Not that he didn’t want to answer the question, he simply couldn’t. He had never had to face a cape buffalo before. Through his abilities at threat assessment, he knew that cape buffaloes were notoriously difficult opponents, notoriously hard to take down, notoriously dangerous when attacking themselves. But that was where his knowledge ended. “I really can’t say, Chief. I never had to take down a cape buffalo, so I honestly can’t answer the question.”

“But you certainly faced other mammals like lions and elephants?”

“Yes, I did, both lions and elephants actually.”

“And you took them down.”

“I did.”

“So everything they say about Arctic Fire is true.”

“What do _they_ say, sir?”

“They say, for instance, that he took down two armed tigers in less than five seconds.”

“Who said that?”

“One of my officers, Sergeant Frederick Delgato. He claims that he met you during the protests after the Savage Predators case had been solved. He also claims that he hadn’t taken out the tigers, but a tiny arctic fox who’d moved faster than his own shadow.” When Rocky opened his mouth to say something, Bogo raised his hoof. “That’s not what you’ll find in the official report, of course. He told me himself, months later. Me and some of our workmates. But nobody believed him.”

Rocky had to rack his brain. “That Sergeant of yours, he’s a lion?”

“That he is.”

“I remember. I was on the run back then …”

“From Mr. Big.”

“Nick told you?”

“He did. He basically told me the whole story of your life. Lots of illicit activities.” He looked down at the file. “Yet none of them show up here, not even your time in jail. But we both know that Mr. Big’s probably responsible for this. In other words, this file is useless.” He tossed it onto the desk again.

Rocky raised an eyebrow, not knowing where this was heading. “So?”

Bogo leaned forward, fixing his stare on Rocky. “I know that you’re guilty of numerous cases of aggravated assault and battery, maybe even of attempted mammalslaughter.”

“So you want to arrest me.”

Bogo snorted. “Don’t be silly! Even if I wanted to, which I don’t, I wouldn’t be able to. There is no proof. So I have to assume that you are an honest, hard-working citizen living on the right side of the law. And if I have to do it, everybody has.”

“Sir?”

“If everybody keeps his mouth shut, nobody will be any the wiser. Which in turn means that your application to the ZPA would be accepted without compunction, despite your age. Most cadets enter the ZPA directly after having graduated from high school or college, not after they have turned 35.”

“Nick was 32.”

“Exactly. In the end, it’s not the age that matters, it’s what you can do. And if it really is true what Wilde told me, if you really are that capable a fighter, you could certainly excel here. So I’m asking you: Do you want to apply to the ZPA?” He made a pause. “And if you do, let it be known to you that you have my full support. I trust Wilde’s judgment, and he trusts you.”

Rocky took a deep breath. “How long do I have to make that decision?”

“Two weeks. That’s the deadline for applications for the upcoming class.”

“You wouldn’t mind if I’m taking those two weeks, sir?”

“I certainly wouldn’t mind. I’m telling you the exact same thing I told your friend when he applied to the ZPA: The ZPD demands full commitment. You either do this and walk the full mile, or you leave it be. There is no middle ground. You either make it, or somebody will break you.” He made another pause. “If you haven’t made up your mind yet, you won’t be able to persevere. So, take your time. I don’t need to hear your ‘yes’ immediately. But the moment I hear that ‘yes,’ I expect full commitment. If you have doubts, you will fail. So, consult your pillow for a few days, and after you’ve made up your mind, come back here and tell me your decision. Even if the answer is ‘no.’ I’d much rather hear an honest ‘no’ than a half-assed ‘yes.’”

“That’s … good to hear, sir.”

Bogo nodded. “No pressure. It’s your life, your decision. But if you make said decision, you have to stand by it through hell and high water.”

“Of course.”

“Good. You have any questions? If not, I have an ambush to prepare.”

“You are going after Bosston and his cronies?”

“We are. And by the way, thank you for your cooperation.”

“You’re welcome.” Rocky got up from his chair. “Thank you for taking the time to talk me through this, sir.”

For the first time since Rocky had entered the office, Bogo gave him a smile. “_You_ are welcome.”

“Good day to you, sir.”

“Likewise.”

* * *

**Outside of “Wambui’s Jewelry Shop,” Sahara Square, Zootopia**

They arrived separately within the time span of four minutes, three tall cape buffaloes, armed with a grappling hook attached to a long rope and wearing special climbing shoes over their hooves. After having examined the area during the daylight hours, they knew exactly where the traffic surveillance cameras were situated, and they managed to keep out of their direct angles of view. But even if they hadn’t, the cameras wouldn’t have been able to pick up much, for they were dressed in black, and along with their dark coat of fur, they were virtually invisible to all but the keenest eyes. Shortly after their arrival, one of them threw the grappling hook onto the roof of the building. The first two attempts failed, but after the third throw, the hook found purchase, and the three large mammals soon started to climb the wall with astonishing swiftness, considering their size.

They were completely unaware of the fact that their performance was closely watched by quite a lot of mammals.

In a dark alley opposite the jewelry shop, no less than seven police officers were watching the heist, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, the perfect moment to catch the culprits in the act.

Little did _they_ know that they were, in turn, also being watched by a pair of bright eyes.

High above the cops, Rocky MacIntyre was sitting on a window sill which may have seemed small when looking at it from street level, but was spacious enough for him to sit upon without any difficulties whatsoever. He had arrived much earlier, waiting for events to unfold. Now, after more than three hours of sitting in a crouched position, so high above the ground that the height alone would have made most mammals feel decidedly dizzy, he slowly started to move his legs to encourage the blood circulation again - he needed his legs to be fully functional.

After all, he had a gift to prepare.

He was secretly glad that the mammal he wanted to give the gift to was also present. Not that he had counted on it - it probably was highly unusual for a Chief of Police to go into the think of things. Then again, during their conversation, Bogo had left the impression of being a mammal of action, not a superior officer who lets his subordinates do the dirty work while he sits on a bench, munching a donut. On top of that, they were facing three cape buffaloes, considered to be among the most dangerous mammals in existence. Maybe he had thought that with him being a cape buffalo himself, their odds would improve.

When it came to the officers who had accompanied him, he had certainly gone for size. Rocky saw one elephant and one polar bear, one tiger and one lion. And two small mammals who seemed ill-fitting among all those massive officers. Yet one of them in particular seemed to be at the very center of attention.

Despite the fact that Nick Wilde was officially on leave, he had obviously volunteered to help taking down the three burglars. No real surprise there - the other small mammal was Judy Hopps, and since they seemed to be joined at the hip, he had probably seen no other choice but to come along when she had volunteered. Right now, Nick was watching the proceedings through the binoculars. Since his eyesight was excellent, even when the lights were low, he was the one to provide the other officers with information on what was going on, talking so softly that Rocky wasn’t able to hear anything.

Not that he needed to. Possessing excellent eyesight himself, he had no difficulties following the ascent of the three huge mammals. The first of them, Bosston himself, used a switchblade to open a window on the fifth floor. With extraordinary dexterity, he managed to open the window in less than three seconds, despite the fact that he was only able to use one hoof, since the other one was holding to the rope. Less than ten seconds later, all three mammals had climbed through the window and disappeared in the darkened building. All in all, it was an outstanding display of agility and efficiency.

For the last time, Rocky checked his gear, his grappling hook, the rope, the grappling gloves, the combat boots. It had felt strange to put on that gear again, after more than three years of having not even looked at it. Arctic Fire had, for all intents and purposes, died the night he had left Mr. Big’s mansion for the final time. He had never thought he’d feel the urge to reanimate the character.

But after what he had gotten to experience a few hours earlier, he had done so gladly.

Nick’s initial suggestion to apply to the ZPA had come as a surprise to Rocky. He had never imagined himself to ever wear the badge, to ever try and uphold law and order. With his more than shady past, he had been absolutely sure that nobody would want him anywhere near the ZPA.

The again, Nick was a former hustler, whose antics obviously were quite well-known - both Judy Hopps and Chief Bogo seemed to possess quite an intimate knowledge of Nick’s accomplishments as a hustler. And yet he had become valedictorian of his class and an immensely successful and highly decorated police officer.

As well as a highly respected one.

That had been the biggest surprise yet: After he had left Bogo’s office, he had met Nick and his friend Judy again. Instead of taking him to the exit to say their farewells, the two had proceeded to introduce him to a few of their coworkers: Benjamin Clawhauser, the cheetah working at Dispatch, a lioness named Suzanne Sarabi, who worked at Service of Supply, Thomas Higgins, who was a hippo and Bogo’s orderly, a massive rhino named Brian McHorn and an even bigger female elephant named Francine Pennington.

And each of those mammals had treated Rocky with genuine cordiality. Simply because he was a friend of Nick, whom they all held in the highest esteem imaginable.

All his life, Rocky had always had to fight an uphill battle for respect. Despite his successes as a marine in the Royal Nagerian Armed Forces, he had always been shunned and disrespected, even by his own subordinates. The mammals who had supported him had been few and far between.

It had pretty much been the same story during his stint with Mr. Big. Of course the shrew had treated him with respect, but never with genuine, cordial acceptance. To him, Rocky had always been little more than a highly useful tool. And while nobody working for Mr. Big had dared to openly treat Rocky with disdain, he had received enough stink eyes to last a lifetime.

Being a fox sometimes was little more than a nuisance.

He had experienced nothing of that sort at the ZPD.

Of course he had no idea what the mammals he had met earlier that day had been thinking, but if their reactions to his presence had been any indication, nobody had held any resentment towards foxes. Everybody had treated Nick as if he was their best friend, and the friendliness had been extended to include Rocky as well.

Never before in his entire life had Rocky been treated as respectful as he had been treated in that short minutes at Precinct One.

This was what he had always wanted: Being treated with respect.

It was as if nobody had cared that he was a fox.

Just as nobody seemed to care that Nick was one.

The scene he got to see down in the street was a perfect example: As the mammal with the best eyesight, Nick was the obvious choice to watch what was going on. And everybody, his Chief and his coworkers, seemed to value his input highly.

Just because he was the best mammal for the job.

The fact that he was a fox didn’t even enter into it.

Not for one second during their conversation had Chief Bogo treated Rocky disrespectfully. To the contrary: He obviously valued Nick’s opinion highly, and thus he had been willing to overlook Rocky’s shady past and had offered him the chance of his lifetime.

He had offered him his full support.

Do you say “No!” to something like that?

Rocky had already made up his mind to accept the offer, to apply to the ZPA, even before he had talked to Bogo, but what he had gotten to experience during the conversation and afterwards had only served to strengthen his resolve.

He would enter the ZPA. He would become a cop. He would work at Precinct One, offering them his blood, sweat, toil and tears.

Because he knew for a fact that he would be rewarded with respect.

That was why he was now sitting on the window sill, preparing to jump into the building to take out the three cape buffaloes. He wanted to deliver a message to Bogo, a message which was now resting in the pocket of his black trousers. A small envelope, with just one piece of paper in it, bearing just two words.

Of course, there was another reason he was sitting there, preparing to assault the culprits.

Was he able to take down a cape buffalo? Or rather, three of them?

Not that he doubted it - he was just curious. After all, he had never faced one before, much less three of them.

“Let’s find out,” he whispered.

Luck had been with him: The window the buffaloes had used to enter the building was directly opposite his vantage point, a few feet lower. The height difference and angle were perfect for him.

Unlike Bosston, he only needed one attempt to let his grappling hook find purchase on the roof of the other building. He took a deep breath and flung himself forward. The rope became taut, the jump became a swing, and with the precision of a well-placed bullet, he shot through the open window into the darkened room, catching himself in a combat roll, hardly making any sound.

Now for the interesting part.

With silent steps, he followed the buffaloes down the only available path, out of the room, into a staircase and down several sets of stairs into the shop proper.

Even before he was able to enter the room, he heard the three mammals talk to each other. “No, not that one. This one here’s the real deal. That one’s just an eye catcher.”

“Are you sure? It looks pretty.”

“And it isn’t worth a dime, trust me.”

The beam of a flashlight shone through the open door.

_Not exactly subtle, those idiots_, Rocky thought as he approached the door. _Nick’ll have a field day out there_.

He lunged into the pocket of his trousers, grabbing the tiny disc resting there. It was a very special piece of equipment Mr. Big had procured for him, basically little more than a tiny speaker. The Bluetooth headset he was wearing was connected to the device, so he was able to talk from the shadows and would be heard at a very different location, as if he was standing there. After he had started taunting his victims, Mr. Big had given it to him as the means to enhance the mystique around the character of Arctic Fire. Checking one final time that the battery was properly charged and the connection was working, he tossed the disc into the room. It landed on the floor with a soft tinkle, probably not loud enough for the buffaloes to hear it. When they commenced their conversation as if nothing had happened, he knew he had succeeded.

_Alright! Showtime!_

“Shame on you!” he said into his microphone.

There was a noisy crash inside the job, a muffled curse, then silence.

Suddenly, a voice, loud and strong: “Who’s there?”

“Why, I’m your worst nightmare, bub. I’m the guy who tells you that you shouldn’t rob other people’s houses.”

“Yeah, so what’re you gonna do about it?”

“Oh, that’s easy. Here’s the situation. If I hit you, I’ll kill you. If I miss, the wind behind the punch will give you pneumonia and you’ll die anyway, so the choice is yours, jabroni!”

“Damn it!” another voice says. “That’s Arctic Fire!”

“Nonsense! He’s dead,” the first voice again. “I think …”

Rocky smiled. “It doesn’t matter what you think!”

“I’m telling you, it’s him!” Whoever the guy was the second voice belonged to, he sounded quite frantic.”

“Yeah, sure! As if he would ever …”

During their heated exchange, Rocky changed his position, peering into the shop. Thanks to the flashlights all three of them were holding in their hooves, it was easy for him to make out his victims.

_Cape buffalo. _Syncerus caffer caffer_. Large mammal. High physical strength, particularly in the arms. The legs are somewhat weaker. Eyesight is rather bad, the other senses average. Stamina is also average. Both hooves and horns are extremely dangerous weapons. Rather slow and sluggish, but once they get moving, stopping them is highly difficult. Due to the big bone shield between their horns, they can run into brick walls and emerge virtually unscathed. Or through mammals unfortunate enough to be in their path. Very dangerous opponents who are very hard to take down, due to sheer size, strength, and the heavily protected skull. A cape buffalo trained in martial arts always is an extreme threat._

_Strengths: Physical strength, horns, head butts, hooves. Body well protected in general._

_Weak spots: Throat, knees, testicles, stomach._

Time to get to work!

* * *

**Back outside of “Wambui’s Jewelry Shop,” Sahara Square, Zootopia**

“Not exactly subtle, those idiots,” Wilde said. “Every pedestrian walking by could notice the flashlights.”

Bogo nodded. Even he was able to see the beams of light shining through the shop windows. “It’s a miracle nobody had spotted them during the first heists.”

“Well, it’s two in the morning. Most mammals are in bed, and those who aren’t probably are so drunk that they think they’re suffering from hallucinations.”

Bogo looked down at Wilde. “Not everybody who’s around at this time of night is drunk, you know.”

“I was just joking, Chief!” Wilde sounded slightly exasperated.

“I think the Chief doesn’t appreciate your sense of humor, Slick”, Hopps, who was standing next to Wilde, said with a grin.

Bogo folded his arms over his chests. “Oh, the Chief appreciates a good joke. If he hears one.”

Wilde chuckled. “What, do you want me to put in more effort, Chief?”

“I would prefer it if you kept your tiny mouth shut, Wilde.”

“I thought you wanted me to tell you what’s going on.”

“Even a mole would be able to see now what’s going on.”

“Probably.” Wilde put the binoculars back into a little pouch hanging off his utility belt. “If I may make a suggestion, I’d say we should go in now. Don’t know how long it’ll take them to grab the good stuff, and we want to catch them red-hoofed.”

“Agreed.” Bogo looked at Pennington. “You have the keys?”

The elephant nodded and produced a set of keys almost as big as Hopps was. “Of course, Chief. Got them from Mr. Wambui himself.”

“Good. By the way, good work figuring out where they would strike.”

“Oh, it was easy,” Pennington said with a smile. “”Markus and I,” she pointed at the polar bear, “have figured out what our missing link was. Of all the jewelry shops in Sahara Square, this is the only one that fits the bill: new delivery of jewelry, several ads in the newspapers - just as it was with the previous thefts.”

Grizzoli added: “All store owners who were robbed had just made the fact known that a few new and valuable items had just arrived. Up for grabs, so to speak.”

“Exactly. They were shouting their new acquisitions out to the world, and those perps certainly took the hint. All we needed was the exact time when they would …”

She was interrupted by a gasp. Irritated, Bogo looked down at Hopps, who had made the sound, probably involuntarily. “What is it, Hopps?”

“Something got broken in the shop,” Hopps said tensely. Her ears were erect and swiveling.

“Really?”

“It was very faint, but … And now I swear I can hear voices.”

Not for the first time, Bogo had to marvel at Hopps’s sense of hearing. He had heard absolutely nothing, nor had the other police officers. “Can you make out what they say?”

“Difficult.” She closed her eyes, furrowing her brow in intense concentration. “Nightmare … rob … about … situation … pneumonia … that makes no sense!” Suddenly she gasped again. “Arctic Fire …”

“What?” Bogo and Wilde shouted at the same time.

“I distinctly heard the name Arctic Fire.”

“You sure?” Wilde asked.

“Dead sure.”

“Shit!” Wilde had already pulled the binoculars out of the pouch and was peering into the store again. “Too dark to make out anything … I just see the flashlights moving. Only two of them now though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Two are moving. One is … stationary on the ground. I’d say we have an unconscious mammal. Now two.”

“Just one left?”

“Just one left, that’s it. Swinging wildly, like a baton. I see a lot of movement on top of that, but it’s just too dark for me to make out details.”

Bogo looked at the storefront himself. And sure enough, there was only one moving source of light left.

And then it stopped moving, too.

But only for a few seconds. Then it started flashing in irregular impulses.

“Er, what …” Bogo began.

“That’s Morse code!” Patrick Johnson spoke up.

“You sure, Officer?”

“My father taught it to me.”

“What does it say?”

“The northern wind … sings … in … the … stove … pipe.”

“Say again?”

“The northern wind sings in the stove pipe. Nothing else.”

“What does it mean?”

“It means,” said Wilde, “that the heist has just come to an untimely end.” He gave a small chuckle. “Rocky, you crazy son-of-a-bitch!”

“What happened?” Bogo asked. “Is MacIntyre in there? How did he get in?”

“No idea. He must have watched us arrive, because he knows I’m here, hence the stove pipe line. Maybe he entered the building after our arrival to wait for them. Maybe he entered after them. Who knows? Who cares?” Wilde looked up at Bogo. “All I know is that we have three unconscious buffaloes to collect.”

* * *

**Inside of “Wambui’s Jewelry Shop,” Sahara Square, Zootopia**

Rocky dropped the flashlight he had used to deliver the message to Nick, then he turned around and beheld his handiwork. “What a disappointment!” he said aloud.

After their stunning acrobatic display, he had expected the three buffaloes to be in better shape, to give him more of a challenge.

It had quickly become painfully obvious - painful for them - that neither of them had had any idea of how to fight.

Granted, he had the advantage of better eyesight in the dark, the advantage of agility and quickness, and the advantage of being a highly trained, seasoned fighter. But apart from that, they had had the upper hoof in every other regard - size, strength, reach, protection. Plus they had been holding flashlights which, in their hooves, would have had the potential of becoming veritable and highly dangerous weapons. He only had his claws.

It had still taken him less than 30 seconds to take them all out.

_I’m sure Bogo would have given me a harder time._

Rocky looked through the window in the direction of the police officers. It seemed like they had taken the hint. Led by Bogo, all seven of them crossed the street and approached the shop.

Time was running out.

For a second, he asked himself why he was so keen to disappear. Nick, Bogo and the other officers had surely realized what was going on in the shop. And despite the fact that vigilantes, in general, were frowned upon by police forces, he was quite certain that Bogo wouldn’t mind this particular piece of assistance.

Maybe it was just what he had always done - pop up somewhere, raise hell, leave.

_Wouldn’t want to ruin my reputation._

He collected the device from where it had landed, lunged into the pocket of his trousers and was just about to put the envelope next to the culprits. But then he hesitated, and a slight smile crossed his face under the piece of cloth which hid his muzzle.

Looking around, he found a pen on one of the counters. Opening the envelope again, he hastily scribbled a few additional words onto the piece of paper, put it back in the envelope, and finally placed it on the floor next to the unconscious buffaloes, in plain sight. Then he made for the door leading to the staircase.

And not a moment too soon. He had hardly left the room when he heard a key being turned in the lock. Seconds later, he heard the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps entering the shop. A loud and strong “Clear!” indicated that they had found nothing amiss.

Apart from three burglars resting in the arms of Morpheus.

And a note severing his ties with his past.

He hardly made a sound when he walked up the stairs back into the room on the fifth floor. Looking through the window to make sure the streets were deserted, he used his own rope to climb to the roof. Collecting grappling hook and rope, he ran over to the side of the building, jumped over to the one next to it, climbed down the fire escape and disappeared into the night.

* * *

**Back inside of “Wambui’s Jewelry Shop,” Sahara Square, Zootopia**

After Grizzoli, Fangmeyer and Johnson had taken the three robbers into custody, Bogo had asked Pennington, Hopps and Wilde to conduct a thorough search of the entire shop. He didn’t think there would be something they hadn’t seen so far, and was therefore slightly surprised when the two small mammals approached him. “You found something?”

Wilde cleared his throat. “This was lying on the floor, next to where the three perps were when we found them.” He handed Bogo a small envelope.

A _fox_-sized envelope, way too small for Bogo to open. And certainly too small for him to read without glasses. “What does it say?”

“Haven’t opened it yet,” Wilde said. “It’s personally addressed to you, Chief.”

Bogo gave the envelope back to Wilde. “Please open it and read it to me.”

“Of course, sir.” Wilde opened the envelope and took out a small piece of paper. He read the note, and a wide grin appeared on his muzzle. “’I’m in.’ That’s all it says.”

Bogo snorted. “He could just have told me over the phone.”

Wilde chuckled. “But you have to admit, this adds pizzazz.”

“Hang on!” Hopps said, looking at the piece of paper herself. “There’s a postscript.”

“What does it say?” Bogo asked.

“’I tend to think so, Chief.’” She raised her voice when saying the last word, as if it was a question.

Bogo snorted. “And he could just have gone to the gym to find out.”

“Excuse me?”

“Forget it, Hopps. That’s between MacIntyre and me. Anything else?”

Hopps shook her head. “One display was broken, probably by Mr. Bivol - we found a glass shard embedded in his arm. Apart from that, the three seem to be unharmed, or rather, there are no visible injuries. If I may haphazard a guess, they probably suffer from concussions.”

“Any clues pointing towards our … ally?”

“None. Not a single hair. At least as far as we can make out. Maybe forensics might come up with something, but somehow I doubt it.”

Bogo looked around. Apart from the broken pane of glass, the place looked untouched, unspoiled. “They probably won’t, right.” He raised his voice. “Well, I guess we can blow this pawpsicle stand.”

“Sir!” Pennington piped up. “What shall I write in my report?”

“I don’t care,” Bogo said quickly. “But you better make sure the Chief never hears of this, Francine.”

Pennington looked at him for a few seconds, astonishment on her features, then she grinned. “Don’t worry, Adrian, he’ll never know.”

“Good. Alright, let’s go.” He turned towards the exit, Pennington, Hopps and Wilde in tow.

* * *

**So, that’s Arctic Fire for you. I said it before, but I’m gladly saying it again: Most of the character was suggested to me by tweiler18, who really deserves most of the credit. I merely added some bits and pieces. Thanks yet again for giving me the character, tweiler18! He promises to be a lot of fun when I finally get to use him in “Hammer,” I guess. Even with his dark, black past …**

**The way Rocky was treated by Mr. Big after having been sprung from prison was inspired by the way Michael Corleone treated the former cop Albert Neri when he wanted him to become his enforcer. The story can be found in the outstanding book “The Godfather” by Mario Puzo, Book VIII, Chapter 30. It’s so good, it’s scary!**

**The bone shield connecting the horns of a cape buffalo is commonly called “boss,” hence the name Bosston. Manda is the Turkish word for buffalo, and bivol the Croatian version.**

**The silly catchphrases Rocky refers to were taken out of a rather old song by the famous German singer/songwriter Reinhard Mey. In 1971, he released an album called “Ich bin aus jenem Holze,” and on this album, the song “Das Geheimnis im Hefeteig oder Der Schuss im Backofen” (The Secret in the Yeast Dough aka The Shot in the Oven) can be found. In it, Mey describes a household accident - an apple pie which explodes in his oven - that leads secret agents to believe he had managed to create some new and very powerful sort of explosive. After having been kidnapped by said agents, he hears one of them, called Robinson, tell another one named Mäusezähnchen that “Bratkartoffeln blühen blau,” fried potatoes blossom in blue. Another agent called Butterblume tells Dornröschen that “Nordwind singt im Ofenrohr,” the northern wind sings in the stove pipe. And if you think now that this makes no sense, you’re perfectly right - it makes no sense. ;-) The song is absolutely hilarious! And while I was at it, I also added Rumpel … pumpel, er, Rumpelstiltskin, just for good measure.**

**As far as quotes are concerned, I hid a tiny reference to the Disney movie “The Lion King” in here. Curious to see if you can find it.**

**That’s it for the moment! Thanks to all of you for reading this one, and please send me your comments!**

**And, of course, take care!**

**Jens “TheCatweazle” Ostendorf**


	9. A Bet You Cannot Win

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

**This chapter actually is part old, part new.**

**The first, longer part is a new creation of mine, dealing with a few concepts I’d been wanting to deal with for ages, while the second, shorter part contains the last of the chapters I once published as part of my “Where There is Song” collection. And the song this part revolves around also gave me this chapter’s motto song - I simply wasn’t able to find anything better for this chapter.**

**Thanks for reading this story thus far, and thanks go also out to The Wildehopps Protection Agency (WHPA), GhostWolf88, niraD, Combat Engineer, Slyly1993, Turjas, Thehellion115, and giftheck for sending comments on this story!**

**Turjas found the reference to the Disney movie “The Lion King” I hid in the last chapter. The lioness I mentioned, Suzanne Sarabi, is of course a reference to Simba’s mother, Sarabi. (Since most of the last chapter was a “copy-and-paste” job from one file into another, I wasn’t actually sure if I had asked for that reference. Seems like I did.) Congrats, Turjas, for finding this one. Good work!**

**To my surprise, giftheck found the Harry Potter reference I had hidden in chapter two. When Judy enters Precinct One HQ, I had Delgato say: “Our new celebrity.” This is exactly the same choice of words used by Professor Snape (played by the late, great Alan Rickman) to address Harry during his very first Defense Against the Dark Arts class in the first movie “Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone.” When I first wrote this chapter, nobody was able to find that quote, but giftheck did it this time! Nicely done, giftheck! Kudos to you!**

**There still are several quotes hidden in this story that haven’t been found yet. I’m counting on you to do it, dear reader!**

* * *

Chapter Nine

** A Bet You Cannot Win **

_Das sind Probleme, die ich früher noch nicht hatte. Früher sagte man noch Milchkaffee und nicht Latte._

Bodo Wartke: “Probleme, die ich früher noch nicht hatte” (Written by Bodo Wartke, from the album “Klaviersdelikte,” Reimkultur Musikverlag, 2012 - Translation: “These are problems I didn’t have in the past. They used to say coffee with milk, not latte.”)

* * *

**Premise**: As far as the timeline is concerned, I guess you’ll have no problems determining when this chapter is taking place ...

* * *

**ZPD Precinct One Headquarters, Parking Lot, City Center, Zootopia**

“_A street racer tearing up Savanna Central_.” Nick snorted. “I sincerely hope His Chiefness doesn’t expect us to chase a street racer in the three-wheeled joke-mobile.”

Judy gave a grin. “Would be kind of awkward. Don’t worry! He told me last week that Procurement and Logistics have refurbished one of the regular patrol cars and outfitted it with controls suitable for a fox and a bunny.” She pointed straight ahead. “This one in fact.”

Nick couldn’t prevent his jaw from dropping. “This monstrosity?”

Judy chuckled. “It’s great, isn’t it? Nick, meet Patrol Cruiser A113. 13, meet Nick Wilde, my new partner on the force.”

“Charmed!” Nick said with a grin. “Isn’t it a bit oversized for the likes of us?”

“A bit.” She stepped next to the car, whose tire alone was taller than she was. “It’s a car you won’t find in any dealership, built bespoke for the ZPD. It’s based on a Cownadian armored vehicle named Gurkha, which is in turn based on the Furd F550 truck. It needs to be big, because it needs to offer enough space for elephants, rhinos, and the likes. Since it’s so big, it’s kinda heavy - depending on the configuration, it can weigh more than ten metric tons, partly due to the heavy armor plating. But since it needs to be fast, it boasts no less than two V8 engines with two turbochargers each plus four electric motors which can put out substantially more than 2,000 bhp altogether. Four-wheel drive, semi-automatic double-clutch gearbox, the running gear is suitable for race tracks _and_ off-road driving, limited slip differential, fully adjustable ride height, traction control, the lot. It can do naught to sixty in about five seconds and can reach top speeds of more than 180 miles per hour. Fast enough for all intents and purposes, I’d say.”

“If you say so, Fluff.” Nick didn’t bother hiding his lack of interest.

Judy made a frown. “Don’t you care about those things?”

“Carrots, all I care about is that this thing works and is fast enough to catch up with a really fast car. I couldn’t care less if it is powered by a nuclear reactor or by mice running around in mouse-wheels. It works? Fine! Let’s get crackin’!”

Judy gave him a look of incredulity. “You are the first male I meet who’s not interested in cars.”

“Cars are devices built to take you from A to B. The end.”

Judy shook her head. “Most men would be salivating at the opportunity to be driving this thing.”

“Well, I don’t. If you wanna fight me for the right to be the one who drives this thing, I concede defeat.”

Judy made a pause. “You _do_ know how to drive, don’t you?”

“Of course I do! Wouldn’t have made it to Precinct One if I didn’t, would I?”

Judy nodded. “Certainly not. Alright, let’s move!” She pressed a button on the car’s key. Both doors opened at once, and ladders started to fold out to allow for easy access. “Wow! They really thought of everything.”

“What do you mean?”

“This is the old patrol car of Delgato and McHorn, and while they were tall enough to enter the car without the need of stepladders, it was kinda difficult for me.”

“You were in this thing before?”

“I was. It was the first patrol car I sat in after my return to the ZPD. Back then, I had to jump up to get into the car. And opening and closing the door was a nightmare.”

“I can imagine.”

Both climbed into the car and looked around. “Color me impressed,” Judy said. “They really did a complete overhaul of that thing.”

Nick nodded. “Seems like I can reach everything with ease.” He wiggled around in his seat. “Quite comfy actually.”

Judy adjusted her seat. “Yeah, _now_ it is. Back then, I needed a booster seat, and I still couldn’t reach the dashboard.” She leaned forward and pressed a button on the dashboard. Both doors closed immediately. “New seats, new dashboard, all controls are easily accessible - this is going to be fun!” She looked every bit like a kit in a candy store.

While fastening his seat belt, Nick gave a chuckle. “Enjoying yourself?”

“I am.” She pressed a button on the radio. “Dispatch, this is patrol car A113. We are ready to assume patrol. Over.”

With a crackle, the radio came to life. “_Acknowledged, One-13! Have a good one, Judy!_”

“Thanks, Ben.”

“_Oh, and Nick, have fun out there! Over!_”

“I will, thanks, Spots!”

“_Good to hear! Dispatch out!_”

Judy looked at Nick “Do you really have to call him Spots over the radio?”

Nick shrugged. “Well, he has spots, hasn’t he?”

Judy pressed another button on the dashboard, and the engines came to life with a low rumble. “Has it ever occurred to you that there are mammals out there who prefer to be addressed with their real name?”

“If I meet one, I’ll tell you, Carrots.”

While shaking her head, Judy put the gearbox into “Drive” and pressed down on the accelerator pedal.

* * *

**Patrol Vehicle A113, Savanna Central, Zootopia**

Almost three hours into their patrol, they still hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the purported street racer.

Not that their patrol had been uneventful. They had had to deal with a minor fender bender, a group of tourists asking for directions, and a parking violator blocking the entranceway to one of Zootopia’s fire departments. Now they were just cruising around, looking for that elusive street racer.

“That’s the problem with being in a city this big,” Nick said matter-of-factly while nibbling at a pawpsicle he had bought for himself after they had fined the parking violator. “Finding somebody who probably doesn’t want to be found isn’t exactly an easy task.”

“Come on!” Judy said with a grin while looking at him. “Didn’t you tell me you know everyone?”

“Eyes on the road, Fluff!”

Judy looked ahead to find that a really tall car, with a giraffe sitting inside, had for some reason or another come to a full stop in the middle of the road. With practiced ease, she steered clear of the car, only to find that the reason the car had come to a stop was a group of armadillos crossing the street. She had to brake quite hard to avoid running the armadillos over, but made it with one foot to spare.

“That was a close one,” Nick said deadpan.

Judy gave a hiss. “You think? Why don’t they use a crosswalk?”

“Because there are none for four hundred yards in every direction.”

After the armadillos had crossed the street, Judy motioned for the giraffe to resume driving, which the mammal did. After looking around to make sure there were no more mammals in the vicinity, Judy accelerated their car again. “This city needs more crosswalks! Crossing the street seems to be outright dangerous!”

Nick gave a chuckle. “The city streets are really quite a thrill. If the hoods don’t get you, the monoxide will!”

Judy gave a grin. “Come on, the air quality’s not that bad!”

“But the air’s much better in Bunnyburrow, right?”

“Okay, I grant you that.”

“And what about traffic?” Judy shot Nick a look. He continued. “Is it as bad in Bunnyburrow as it is here? I mean, it’s ten times bigger than Zootopia after all.”

“Not even remotely. Most bunnies prefer to walk or use bicycles. Car’s aren’t all that common in Bunnyburrow. I mean, there probably are about as many cars as there are in Zootopia, but given the fact that there are so much more mammals, and particularly given the fact that our cars tend to be on the smaller side, it will never be as bad.”

“So a lot of bunnies there don’t even know how to drive.”

“Oh, most do, they just prefer not to.”

“So, are all rabbits bad drivers, or is it just you?” he said in a mocking tone while looking through the side window of the car.

For a split second, Judy tried to think of a snarky retort, but she found out that she needn’t bother, for they were approaching a red traffic light, which Nick obviously hadn’t even seen yet. She waited until the last possible second, then she stepped on the brakes. Hard.

With a sickening jolt, the car came to a complete stop within a few feet.

While she was able to support herself against the steering wheel, Nick wasn’t so lucky. He was flung forward, and only the seat belt prevented his head from hitting the dashboard.

When he straightened himself again, the pawpsicle was stuck firmly to his face, covering his left eye.

“Oops, sorry!” Judy said with a mocking smile.

With a chuckle, Nick ripped the offending item off his face. “Sly bunny!”

“Dumb fox!”

He leaned towards her. “You know you love me.”

It wasn’t the first time he had said something like this to her. Back when he had first done it, during a phone call while he had been at the ZPA, it had come as a surprise to her. Now it was just a regular occurrence, and it probably wouldn’t come as a surprise to her anymore if he said it in the presence of other mammals.

She still didn’t know exactly what had made him say it back then, and she didn’t know now. But she knew for a fact that he liked her a lot, just as she liked him a lot. They had become close friends in a surprisingly short amount of time. He did certainly love her in a manner of speaking, and she did love him back in that same manner of speaking.

But in the end, it was little more than joyful banter. Which was why it was easy for Judy to come up with an appropriate reply. Pretending to be in deep thought, she said: “Do I know that?” She then gave a smile and looked at Nick. “Yes, yes, I do.”

They looked at each other for another second, sharing a smile, until Judy saw, out of the corner of her eye, that the traffic lights had turned green again. She accelerated the car again ...

WROOOOOM!

Both looked after the red sports car which had just dashed past them.

Then they looked at each other and shared a grin.

_Finally!_

Nick donned his aviator shades and pressed the button on the dashboard which activated lights and sirens, while Judy put the pedal to the metal. With a swerve, their patrol car launched forward, and after a short wiggle of its tail, it sped after the speeder with an almighty roar.

“Dispatch, this is One-13,” Nick said while pressing the appropriate button on the control panel. “We have spotted a speeding vehicle, westbound on Rafiki Boulevard, and are in pursuit. Over!”

“_Acknowledged, 13_,” Clawhauser said. “_Want me to run a 10-28 for you?_”

“Why not? Car is a red sports coupé with white stripes, looks like a Catillac to me. License plate reads, hang on, Foxtrot-Sierra-Tango, November-Mike-Lima. It’s a Zootopian plate.”

“_Copy that, 13. I’ll send the data to your inboard computer. Over_.”

“Much appreciated, Spots! 13 out!”

“You can read the license plate from here?” All Judy was able to make out at this distance was the fact that the red car had a license plate.

“I sure can.”

“Not bad! I need to catch up with him first before I can do that.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Judy gave a grin. “Don’t worry, Slick, he won’t be able to get away from us.”

They were indeed gaining fast on the speeding vehicle. Despite the fact that the driver changed directions several times, Judy was able to keep up with their rival with ease. Their car was supremely balanced, whereas the coupé was swerving from left to right without point or purpose whenever the driver made a turn. Consequently, they had reduced the lead to less than fifty feet in little more than twenty seconds.

It was obvious that Judy was the much better driver.

A fact the other driver seemed to realize quickly, for he began to slow down and pulled over to the curb after about one minute of pursuit.

“Truth be told,” Nick said, his tone serious, “you are one heck of a driver!”

“Why, thank you, Slick!” Judy was pleased with how smoothly their pursuit had proceeded.

“You know what? I think I should always let you handle the driving.”

Judy looked at Nick with a frown. “Really? Why?”

“Because you are a much better driver than I could ever hope to be,” he replied matter-of-factly. He pressed the button to activate the radio. “Dispatch, this is One-13. We have caught up with the speeder, who has stopped his car on Zazu Avenue, in front of that ‘Globetrotter’ branch office, street number, uh, hang on, 176. Any more info on the perp? Over.”

“_Indeed, 13_,” Clawhauser said. “_It says here that he’s a repeat offender. 21 unserved infractions, 18 for speeding and three for running red lights. I’m sending you the info on car and driver now_.”

“Copy that, Ben. What do you say? Tow truck?”

“_10-51 is already alerted and should be en route shortly. ETA should be less than five minutes. And according to my info, you’re authorized to confiscate his driver’s license. Over_.”

“Acknowledged! And thank you, Spots! Wilde out!” He opened the inboard laptop and pressed a key to make the display light up. “I guess we really found our street racer. Let’s see what we have here.”

“You really think I am a better driver than you are?” Judy asked.

“Of course you are!” Nick gave a smile. “I have no problems admitting that there are a few things I can’t do as good as others. I may know this city better than you, I might know more of its citizens than you, my eyesight may trump yours, but your abilities as a driver trump mine. Let the best mammal for the job do the job. Tends to yield the best results, don’t you agree?” The promised info appeared on the small screen, and he gave a low whistle.

“You know the perp?”

“I do indeed. Let’s roll!”

They left the patrol car and approached the other vehicle, which was still standing next to the curb, where the other driver had parked it. Even before they reached it, Judy said in a loud voice: “Sir, you were going 115 miles per hour. I hope you have a good explanation.”

The side window rolled down slowly to reveal ...

“Flash, Flash. Hundred Yard Dash!” Nick exclaimed while taking off his aviator shades.

Judy just stared at the sloth in incredulity. _What in the dickens ...?_

Flash’s face broke into a grin ... very slowly ...

“Niiiiick ...”

“Well, Flash,” Nick said with a friendly smile and in a casual tone, “would you please be so kind and tell me why you were running a red light in front of a police cruiser and then proceeded to speed along the road at 115 miles per hour?”

“You ... really ... are ... a ... police ... officer ... now?”

Nick looked down as if examining himself. “Yeah. Crazy, isn’t it? But you haven’t answered my question.”

“Who ... would ... have ... thought!”

“I would have. And you’re still stalling.”

On this, Flash actually looked apologetic. “I ... am ... terribly ... sorry ...”

“Flash,” Nick said in the very same casual tone, “I do know that you can speak faster, and you know that I do.”

Flash closed his mouth again, then he sighed. “Yes, Nick, I know.” His manner of speech was still slow, there still were distinct pauses between the words, but it was no longer painful to listen to them.

“And I’m also still waiting for an answer, you know.”

“Well, I was on my way to work.”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Flash, correct me if I’m mistaken, but didn’t you tell me you’re on vacation?” When Flash didn’t reply, he added: “Going for a little joyride, aren’t we?”

Flash nodded slowly. “Yes.”

Nick nodded as well, albeit much faster. “And not for the first time either. According to our computer system, this is the nineteenth time you were caught speeding, and the fourth time you ran a red light. You know what that means?”

“No. A hefty fine?”

“Boy, if it was only that! Your driver’s license stays with me, and your car will be impounded for the time being.”

Flash just stared at him. “You cannot be serious!”

“Believe me, buddy, I am dead serious.” Judy noticed that Nick’s face still showed the same smile, but a tiny edge had crept into his voice.

“You cannot ... do this to me! We’re friends!”

“That we are, Flash, but speeding and running red lights are quite serious infractions, and you have amassed quite a lot of them. I’m sorry, buddy, I really am, but this car is not going anywhere.” He lunged for the handle and opened the door. “May I ask you to step outside? And I’d like to have your license and registration too, please.”

Slowly, reluctantly, Flash climbed out of the car. “After everything I have done for you, this is what you do to me?”

Nick dropped the smile. “Buddy, you got yourself into this pickle all by yourself. Don’t talk to me like it’s my fault! You could have driven like a smart, law-abiding citizen, but you had to drive like your tiny tail’s on fire. This is on you, and on you alone. License and registration!” When Flash didn’t react, Nick added in a more forceful tone: “Now!”

With another sigh, Flash turned around, bend forward into the car and pulled a few pieces of paper out of the glove compartment. Nick took them and handed them to Judy. “Would you hold this for me, please, Judy?”

It was at this moment that Judy found out that her mouth was still open, and she closed it quickly. “Of course, Nick.” She took the papers, and Nick pulled a ticket printer out of his trousers’ pocket. She held the license and registration up for him to read, and he entered the information into the little machine.

With a whirr, a lengthy strip of paper appeared in the machine’s slot, which Nick ripped off. Handing the slip of paper to Flash while pocketing the printer, he said matter-of-factly: “There you are. In case you have a grievance with this, you can contest your citation in traffic court.”

Flash took it in what looked like a deliberately slow manner. “But ... how should I get home now?”

“You know, Flash, there’s an invention called ‘trolley.’ Mammals use it all day. You can do it, too.”

“But ... then I have to get up much earlier to get to work!”

“Buddy, you should have thought of that before speeding through city streets.” He looked past Flash, down the road. Judy turned her head to see a tow truck approach them. Nick raised his arm and waved, and the tow truck slowed down and came to a stop in front of them.

“My ... car,” Flash said slowly.

“It’s still yours, it will merely be impounded.”

While the two zebus attached the car to the tow truck’s hook, Flash looked at it as if he had just lost a good friend.

_Which, maybe, he has_, Judy thought.

She would never have imagined Nick would take his new job that seriously.

When she had seen Flash behind the wheel, a tiny part of her had feared that Nick would try and find a way to make sure his old friend would emerge unscathed.

Instead, he had confiscated Flash’s driver’s license and impounded his car without the tiniest hint of hesitation.

Just as he, as a police officer, was supposed to.

She looked up at her partner, who was watching the proceedings with a facial expression that she was completely unable to read.

If she had still been in need of confirmation for just how seriously Nick took his job, she had just received it.

* * *

**ZPD Precinct One Headquarters, Second Floor, Office Cubicles, City Center, Zootopia**

“Ready to rumble, Fluff?”

Judy looked over her shoulder to see that Nick was standing behind her. He held a file in one paw. “Don’t tell me you’re done already!”

“I am.” He held up the file. “Don’t tell me you aren’t.”

“How could I be done already?” She pointed at her laptop’s screen. “These reports are very serious! So I need to take them seriously.”

“So seriously that it takes you longer than half an hour to write a report on a simply traffic violation?” He took a step forward and looked at the screen. “And since when does it matter that Flash’s eyes are brown?”

Judy made a frown. “I must make sure that he is distinctly identifiable. There are a lot of sloths in Zootopia, and ...”

“And Flash is quite a unique one.” Nick gave her a smile. “His parents named him Flash, because he was a premature delivery - more than one month earlier than anticipated. As if he couldn’t wait to be born. But as it turns out, it is quite an apt name, because he is much faster than sloths usually are.”

Judy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I noticed.”

“Most sloths can be way faster than they usually are, but at the cost of expending an enormous amount of energy, of which they don’t have all that much. They need to conserve energy. When left to their own devices, they ... are ... really ... really ... slow. But when need arises, they can be significantly faster. If that wasn’t the case, a lot more sloths would die in traffic accidents or when, for example, a fire breaks out. When they desperately need to get away, they will certainly move faster. Not as fast as foxes, and definitely not as fast as bunnies, but faster still. To you, they may still seem very slow, but not as slow as you saw them, back at the DMV.”

He made a pause. “And Flash can be way faster than most sloths. He was on the high school’s track team.”

“Say again?”

“He was on the high school’s track team. That’s where we met. I saw him outrun a wolf. Granted, the wolf in question wasn’t exactly in the best of shapes, to put it mildly. Still, he was faster. By quite a margin actually.

“What I told you at the DMV was perfectly true: Flash is the fastest guy in there. By far and away.”

“He is? I didn’t notice.”

“Because he knew the moment we walked in there that I didn’t take you seriously. That’s why he was his usual, sluggish self. Had I told him to get a move on, you would have seen just how fast he can be. We would have been out there in less than five minutes.”

On this, Judy turned around on her chair. “You know, that’s actually the first time you admit that you hindered my investigation on purpose back then.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “Of course I did! I thought your search for Emmitt Otterton was a pretend investigation - I think I even told you that I thought so. The way I saw it, they had only given the meter maid the case to get rid of her, so the real cops could deal with the real important stuff. But then Manchas attacked us, and fifteen minutes later, Bogo ordered you to hand over your badge. It was only then that I fully realized that your investigation was everything but a pretend one. That’s when I realized that your career was really on the line, and that I had jeopardized it by deliberately wasting time.” He made a pause. “And for the record, I’m still quite ashamed that I did this to you.”

Judy gave him a smile. “But you made up for it by helping me solve the case.”

“I like to think I did.” He pointed at the screen. “The point is, there is only one Flash in Zootopia, and he is quite unique. I know where he lives, I know where to find him. If you just write in your report that you witnessed a sloth named Flash Slothmore breaking several traffic regulations, it’ll be quite enough. There’s no need to describe him in full detail.” He held up his file. “Or you could just sign my report, and we hand it in together.”

“What?”

“Didn’t they tell you at the Academy that it’s perfectly fine for a team of cops if only one of them hands in a report, as long as it’s signed by every member of the team?”

“I should ... just sign your report?”

“What? You think it’s not good enough?” He held it in front of her. “You wanna read it?”

Judy hesitated for a second, then she took the file and opened it. It consisted of no more than eight pages, a report in quadruplicate which was two pages long. The first page contained the usual header, giving the details on the team of police officers involved in the case, and the personal details on Flash, and the second one contained the report proper.

It took her less than two minutes to read the report. “That’s ... concise.”

“And the way I see it, it’s everything you need. Why waste energy writing more in a report than absolutely necessary? Perfectly pointless to do so. And a colossal waste of time and paper.”

“You really think that’s enough?”

Instead of an answer, he took the file out of her paws and turned around. “Hey, Harry, Dimitri, may I ask you two a favor?”

Harry Wolford and Dimitri Snarlov, who had just gotten up from their respective chairs after having written their own report on their latest arrest, walked towards him immediately. “Yeah, Nick? What is it?” Wolford asked.

He handed him the file. “Would you please read this and tell me if this is a report I could hand in to the Chief?”

“Of course.” Wolford took the file and held it up so that both he and Snarlov could read it at the same time.

“It’s quite brief,” Snarlov said, “but everything you need seems to be in there. You wrote it?”

“I did.”

Wolford nodded. “Not bad! Not bad at all! Yeah, Bogo will like this very much. He always complains that our reports are way too long. Best report from a rookie I’ve seen in a long time!”

“I agree,” Snarlov said. “Concise and to the point. Just the way the Chief likes it.”

“Thanks, you two!”

“You’re welcome!”

Nick turned back towards Judy. “See? If you just sign it, you spare yourself all the work.”

“You think I should really do it?”

“Yes, you can,” Wolford said, pointing at Snarlov. “Dimitri and I take turns writing the reports, and whoever doesn’t write them signs them as well. Bogo’s fine with that.”

Judy took a deep breath, then she turned around and shut down her laptop computer. “Okay, would you give it to me, please?”

“With pleasure, Carrots.”

He handed her his report, and Judy opened the file and signed all four copies of the report.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Nick gave her a grin.

“Oh, shut it, Slick!” Judy got up from her chair and did a few stretches. Looking at Wolford, she asked: “Did you file a report yourself, Harry?”

“We did, well, I did, and Dimitri signed it We came across a pick pocket, and while processing him, we found out he had a rap sheet as long as an elephant’s trunk. So we went to arrest him, and he resisted arrest. And now, the guy’s at Zoo Gen.”

“Oh dear!” Judy exclaimed. “What happened?”

Snarlov shrugged. “Well, the perp was a polar bear like me, and when Harry pulled out the pawcuffs, he went for him. This I couldn’t allow. So I grabbed him and put him in a choke hold. He tried to get out of it, but ...”

He made a pause, and Wolford finished with a grin: “Let’s just say Dimitri’s choke holds are not meant to be broken. The idiot dislocated his shoulder trying to do it.”

“Ouch!” Nick exclaimed.

“Yup, pretty much.”

“What happens to him?” Judy asked.

Wolford opened his mouth to answer, but someone beat him to it. “What do you think, Hopps?” Bogo said while entering the room. “Resisting arrest, attacking a police officer, pickpocketing. And he’s a repeat offender. He will certainly spend the foreseeable future in the gray bar hotel.”

Snarlov turned towards Bogo. “You talked to the doctors, Chief?”

“I did indeed, Snarlov. Came here to tell you about it. Dislocated shoulder and a fully torn rotator cuff. It will be a long time before Kuptana will be able to use his arm again. And no, Kuptana won’t be able to deliver on his threat to file charges against you for police brutality. Both Andrew Horner, the District Attorney, and Basil Ratigan from Internal Affairs told me they refuse to investigate against a police officer who protected another police officer. And I much rather commend you for defending Wolford.”

“Thank you, sir!”

“Terry Kuptana?” Nick asked.

“You know him?”

“I do, sir. A ruffian and a thief, and not exactly a well-liked guy among con-mammals. Well known for stealing the earnings of hustlers. I guess most won’t be too sorry to see him out of circulation.”

“Did you ever have a run-in with him,” Wolford asked.

“Yup. Wanted to steal Finnick’s and my earnings, but Finnick had other ideas.”

“Doesn’t sound like life on the street was pleasant,” Snarlov said.

Nick gave a smile. “Let me put it this way: My life now is much less stressful. Much safer. Much more enjoyable.”

Bogo nodded. “Good to hear. Any word on the street racer, Wilde?” Instead of an answer, Nick handed him the file. “You caught him?”

“Red-pawed. Ran over a red light right in front of us and then tried to skedaddle at about 115 miles per hour. Fortunately, Carrots is a much better driver than Flash is.”

“I take it it’s another mammal you know.”

“Of course I do. Flash Slothmore, works at the DMV. Actually an old friend of mine.”

“A friend of yours.”

“Yes.”

“I guess he won’t feel all that friendly towards you at the moment.”

Nick’s smile dropped. “I don’t care a copper! Counting the two infractions of today, he has amassed 23 of ‘em. Clawhauser told me I was authorized to confiscate his driver’s license, and that’s what I did. You’ll find it in there, sir.” He pointed at the file. “And his car currently sits in the impound lot.”

Bogo looked at the file himself. “And you already wrote your report. Good work, officers!”

“Thank you, sir,” Judy said.

Bogo looked at Nick. “You wrote the report, I presume.”

Nick made a frown. “Uh, we did, sir.”

Bogo gave him a sardonic smile. “I rather doubt it. If Hopps had been involved in the writing of this, the report would be four times as long.”

Nick looked at Judy, who could only return the look with a rather sheepish grin. “Four times as long?” he asked.

“Well, uhm, probably, yeah ...”

“As long as it’s signed by both of you, I don’t care,” Bogo said, turning around and making for the exit. “Carry on!”

They all looked at his retreating back, and when he had left the room, Nick gave a chuckle. “Carrots, tell you what: I let you handle the driving, you let me handle writing the reports.”

Judy stared at him. “Really?”

“Yes. I think you waste way too much time on writing reports.

“You do know that this is a win-win situation for me,” Judy said with a grin.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, everybody hates writing reports,” Wolford said. “I never heard anyone offering to do it voluntarily.”

Nick gave a frown. “Why? Writing reports is easy.”

“Yeah, but in quadruplicate?” Snarlov said.

“Come on, you just write one report and print it four times. What’s the problem?”

Wolford gave a chuckle and patted Nick on the shoulder. “You’ll learn to hate writing reports soon enough, believe me.” He looked at Snarlov. “Let’s get moving!”

“Yeah, but could we make a beeline for the closest diner first? I’m starving,” Snarlov replied.

“Of course. It’s time for our lunch break anyway.” Looking at the smaller mammals, Wolford gave a two-digits-salute. “See you around!” With that, both Snarlov and Wolford started walking towards the exit.

“Take care!” Nick said. Looking at Judy, he added. “And could we take a short coffee break first? I think I’m in need of some liquid fortification.”

“Oh, all you caffeine addicts!” Judy said with a chuckle.

“You don’t drink coffee?”

“Only decaf. Too much caffeine can kill a rabbit.”

“Really?”

“Yup. Our resting heart rate’s fast enough without the additional caffeine. If I drink too much coffee, I risk suffering a heart attack.”

“Are rabbits really that high-strung?”

Judy gave him a punch in the arm. “Come on, we’re not high-strung!”

“Aren’t you?”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a pain in the ass?”

Nick gave a chuckle. “I seem to recall having heard that quite often, yeah. But you’re not exactly the most pleasant person to be around with either.”

“Hey!”

“Come on, Fluff!” Nick rubbed his arm. “Why do you always keep punching me? And in the exact same spot, too!”

“Because you are a ... haven’t we covered that already?” Both gave a chuckle and walked towards the exit. “But yeah, I think it’s time for a short break. There’s a coffee shop right around the corner. We could walk there.”

Nick made a face. “Just so you know, I never go there, not if I can help it.”

Judy looked up at him. “Why?”

“I don’t like their sales pitch.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me, Carrots. Trying to get a cup of hot Joe there is like trying to thread McHorn through the entrance gate to Rodentia.”

“Come on! How hard can it be?”

Instead of an answer, Nick gave her a smirk, pulling his wallet out of his pocket. Taking a twenty dollar bill out of the wallet, he said: “How about a bet? You go in there and buy yourself a cup of decaf. With this double sawbuck here. If you can manage, you can keep the change.”

She stared at him, open-mouthed. “Uh, Nick, are you alright?”

Nick grinned. “Oh, I’m fine. Never felt better.”

“I never thought I’d see the day when Nicholas Wilde offers a bet he’s sure to lose.”

“You know what they say: Don’t count your chickens ...”

“So, what’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch, Fluff. Just go in there and buy yourself a cup of coffee. If you can do it, you can keep the change. But if not …,” he stopped in his stride, turned around and leaned forward, closing the gap between the two of them, “I’ll keep the twenty, and you’ll buy _me_ a coffee at a decent café.”

Judy grinned. “That’s the easiest 17 bucks I’ve ever made. Come on, Slick!”

* * *

**Snarlbucks Coffeehouse Chain Café, City Center, Zootopia**

Upon entering the café, Judy looked around. It was quite the crowded place, with dozens of customers sitting at small tables and quite a few waiting in line in front of the counter. But the numerous baristas behind the counter were able to deal with the customers in a pleasantly speedy manner, and so it took little time for them to be the first in line.

Their barista, a female antelope, looked at them with a smile. “Good day, officers. Welcome to Snarlbucks. How may I help you?”

Judy looked at Nick, who made an inviting gesture. “Ladies first!”

Judy smiled. “Thanks.” She looked at the antelope. “One cup of coffee, please.”

“Of course. Which one?”

Nick watched Judy closely. She had sure learned a thing or two about hiding her emotions since they had first met, still Nick was able to read her with ease. _You didn’t expect that one, eh, Carrots?_ “What do you mean?” Judy asked.

“Well, we have Caffè Latte plus syrup or Cappuccino, Espresso, Caramel Macchiato, Frappuccino, Extra Shot, Caffè Latte, Caffè Mocha, White, And of course you can have them blended or light. Decaf ...”

“Er, what?” _Yup, puzzled._

“It means decaffeinated.”

Judy rolled her eyes. “I know what decaf means. But ...”

The barista continued as if Judy hadn’t even spoken. “The milk can also be fat-reduced. Low fat, no fat, lactose-free, Or soya, maybe a drop of syrup on top. Vanilla, Caramel, Macadamia, Chocolate, Hazelnut ...”

At this point, the barista took a breath, which allowed Judy to say: “Er, ehm, I'll have ...”

“We also have the Coffee of the Week.”

“I see.” Judy didn’t sound like she did.

“Or French Press, for here or to go. Now you only need to pick your size. Tall, Grande, or Venti. What shall it be?”

_And now she is completely stumped! _Nick couldn’t help grinning like a madmammal.

Judy hesitated visibly. Her nose was twitching violently, and her right hind paw started thumping the ground at a feverish pace. “Well, I think I’ll rather have tea.”

“Of course,” the barista said immediately. “Black tea or green, mint, chamomile, Chai, Thé Latte, Roiboos, Vanilla, Hibiscus, raspberry, currant ...”

“Stop it!” Judy shouted, raising a paw. “That's enough!”

“Oh, there’s so much more you can get here at Snarlbucks.”

“Dear lady,” Judy said, her whole body trembling - _so much for not being high-strung_ -, “the more you offer, the less I know what to pick.”

“Well, we also have Hot Chocolate … Er, wait! Officer?”

* * *

**ZPD Precinct One Headquarters, Parking Lot, City Center, Zootopia**

Nick caught up with Judy when he reached their cruiser, which was still standing in the middle of ZPDs parking lot. She was leaning against one of the tires, breathing heavily. “Never!” she shouted. “Never again will I set paw in this cursed café!”

“I told you, didn't I?”

“You did.” Judy took a deep breath, calming down somewhat. She held up the twenty-dollar-bill. “I guess this is yours.”

“It is.” Nick put away the money. “Now, what do you say? Let’s find a _real_ café?”

“You bet!”

They climbed into their cruiser and left the scene of Judy’s personal dread.

* * *

**The song the second part of this chapter is based upon, “Probleme, die ich früher noch nicht hatte,” really revolves around several problems Bodo Wartke has now, but didn't have in the past. The translation of the corresponding section, one verse smack in the middle of the song, can be found in this story, more or less literally.**

**And it is just so me!**

**I would never enter a Starbucks coffee house of my own volition. I’m quite the coffee connoisseur, eschewing automatic coffee makers. With me, brewing coffee turns into a science. My coffee is ground by hand and hand-filtered, using water heated up to exactly 94 degrees Celsius (201 degrees Fahrenheit) - any more, and the essential oils within the coffee beans start to evaporate. (I actually own a thermometer which I use to make sure the temperature is correct.) Sometimes, if I wanna treat myself to something really nice, I pick some of the really fancy coffee beans (which cost more than twenty bucks per pound), grind them by hand using Grandma’s old coffee grinder, and use a French press. Add a few drops of milk, and I’m a happy camper. Coffee is my most favorite beverage by far and away, and I guess it shows.**

**Giving a bunny caffeine can indeed be the last thing you do to them. Their resting heart rate sits at about 180 and can be as high as 350. Add caffeine, and you get instant cardiac arrhythmia, which can be fatal. Yup, hyper little creatures, bunnies!**

**Now, in the first part of the story, leading up to the scene in the Snarlbucks café, I was dealing with a few things I had wanted to talk about for a long time. First of all, in the very first chapter I ever wrote, the first chapter of “Now Your Nightmare Comes to Life” (which I will present you with shortly here on AO3), I had established that it was always Judy who drove their patrol car, and that it was always Nick who wrote the reports. Now you know why.**

**But the second topic is a bit more serious.**

**When I first made a foray into the world of fanfiction, I read several stories to get the gist of what the Zootopia fanfiction scene was like. I must have read several dozen different stories in just a few weeks. Some of them were really good, most of them were really entertaining, but a select few of them were just ... well, let’s not mince words here: They were bad. Like, really, really bad.**

**I came across one particular story I want to talk about here. It began with a scenario not unlike the one I presented you with here - Nick and Judy come across Flash on their very first patrol. In that story, however, the outcome was completely different. In there, Nick not only allowed Flash to leave the scene without any fine, he also shot down Judy’s criticism. And there was a lot of criticism - Judy was pissed beyond belief, and rightly so, I might add. But he rebuffed her. He basically still acted like a hustler, not like a police officer sworn to uphold the law.**

**That was the point when I stopped reading the story.**

**The movie has established that deep down inside, Nick is a Junior Ranger Scout. He wants to do good, but society never gave him the chance to do good. So he became a hustler, basically because he was disappointed by the world at large. But after Judy gave him the chance, after she had told him that he could be so much more than a pawpsicle hustler, he turned his life around completely, applied for the ZPA, and became a police officer working alongside Judy at Precinct One.**

**Only to then revert back to his old ways?**

**Sorry, but that’s just incongruous! Nick became a cop, overcoming stupendous odds. Because deep down inside, he wanted to. It’s just what he wanted his entire life - do good and be shown the respect he deserves.**

**Is such a mammal likely to still act like a hustler? I rather doubt it.**

**That’s why I have mentioned, several times actually (in chapter three of “Wound,” for example, or in the last chapter of this one), that Mr. Big once told Nick that deep down inside, he was no hustler. That’s because he never was. He always wanted to be a Junior Ranger Scout. For one, he still carries the red handkerchief of that Junior Ranger Scout uniform around, more than twenty years later! (It has been confirmed by the makers of the movie that the hankie he puts the blueberries into and later uses to bandage Judy’s leg is the same one he wore in that flashback scene, showing him in his Junior Ranger Scout uniform.)**

**In “Nightmare,” I will mention that Nick has alienated himself with a lot of hustlers during his career as a cop. He strives to uphold the law, and if former friends and allies become targets of his, it doesn’t make him slow down in his stride - he simply does what he’s supposed to do as a police officer.**

**That’s why I had him treat Flash like he was supposed to, confiscating his driver’s license and his car. Sounds much more coherent to me.**

**In case you disagree with that, feel free to tell me so, but don’t expect me to relent to your point of view. I have pondered long and hard on this, and this was the only scenario that made sense to me.**

**It is quite possible that you know the car which I claim the patrol cruiser is based on. It’s name is indeed Gurkha, it’s built by the Canadian company TerraDyne Armored Vehicles, Inc. and based on the chassis of a Ford F550 Super Duty pickup truck. The car itself can be seen in the movie “Fast Five” by Justin Lin, published by Universal Pictures in 2011. It’s the vehicle of choice of DSS agent Luke Hobbs (played by Dwayne Johnson). It’s quite the beefy car - it’s almost 21 feet long and weighs more than seven metric tons - and perfect for what I envision their patrol cruisers to be. Although I needed to give it a bit more oomph - the original car boasts a 6.7 liter V8 Diesel engine with a measly 330 hp, and its top speed is no more than 80 mph.**

**And as for Flash being much faster than we know is concerned, well, I took a small artistic license here. What I wrote about the brown-throated sloth (_Bradypus variegatus_) is completely true. They have a very limited diet of leaves - individual mammals may even stick to just one kind of tree. Which means they don’t get all that many nutrients. Consequently, their metabolic rates are less than half of what you’d expect from a mammal of that size. That’s why they’re so slow. They need to conserve energy. When need arises, they can be faster, but not by much. But in a city like Zootopia, it would mean that no sloth would be able to cross the street, they would miss every trolley, and if a fire breaks out inside a building, they would have no chance to escape in time. And they would certainly not be able to drive as fast as Flash did it in the movie - if his reflexes were as slow as they are when he hears Nick tell his joke, he would crash his ride at every turn. Hence his ability to be way faster than you’d think. And by the way, Rich Moore, one of the directors of the movie, revealed on Twitter that Flash and Nick first met on their high school’s track team.**

**I hid one line from a song by Tom Lehrer in this chapter. Curious to see if you can find that one.**

**I also hid two small references to the movie “The Lion King” in here - again! Shouldn’t be too hard to spot.**

**Yet another reference from the Disney movie “The Great Mouse Detective” can be found in here. It actually is sort of a double reference, and I doubt you’ll have many problems finding it.**

**And that’s it for the moment! Thanks for reading, and should you be willing to send a comment my way, I’d be happy!**

**Take care!**

**Jens “TheCatweazle” Ostendorf**


	10. If They Give You Hell

**Hello, my fellow Zootopians!**

**This chapter was removed by me because of my rather blatant violation of the AO3 Terms of Service, particularly in regards of copyright. I had always known that this would probably happen at some point - after all, I had given almost the entire lyrics of the song “Here’s to Us” by Halestorm -, but I had decided, quite daringly, to post it anyway, always counting on the fact that sooner or later, things would catch up with me and that therefore someone would tell me to remove the chapter.**

**Well, it has happened, and the chapter has been removed, so the remainder of the story is, again, in full accordance with the AO3 Terms of Service.**

**Sorry, The Wildehopps Protection Agency (WHPA), but I had no other choice!**

**For all intents and purposes, the “Singing Cops” storyline is dead and will never be revived by me again.**

**And to be honest, I don’t even feel sad about it. In the overarching storyline I had created, it had always been little more than an odd member, a rather pointless addition which never really fit in. Removing it takes nothing away from the storyline itself, so I’m okay with it. And while I have been quite proud of that chapter, I’m way more proud of other things I did in the past.**

**The chapter is gone, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s fine with me.**

**On a side note, in case someone reads this and wonders why I haven’t published anything for so long a time, well, I have decided, or rather, circumstances have forced me to take a sabbatical, which might take a few more months. At this stage, I don’t even know if I’ll ever be able to publish anything again. To be honest, it’s quite possible, maybe even likely, that this is the last time you hear from me.**

**It’s not that I’m not doing good - I actually am quite fine at the moment, all things considered -, but several events in the last couple of months have caused my motivation to keep on doing this to drop to an absolute zero. And no, this has nothing to do with the removal of this chapter - the stuff that happened did so way before I was notified of the copyright violation.**

**In case you wanna know more, feel free to send me an email - my address is ostendorf.jens@t-online.de. Sending a message on this site is pointless - I haven’t visited this homepage in months and have no intention of doing it in the foreseeable future. I have also given the Discord server a wide berth as of late, so trying to contact me there is just as pointless.**

**Who knows, maybe I’ll be back in a few weeks or months to pick up the pieces again. If I do, I’ll explain to you why all this happened in the author’s notes of the chapter.**

**But if this is indeed the last sign of life from me, I wish you all the best for your future! Have fun, stay healthy, God bless you!**

**And of course, take care!**

**Jens “TheCatweazle” Ostendorf**


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